Crumple Horned Plot Bunnies
by Andrew Joshua Talon
Summary: Random Harry Potter ideas that I haven't found a place for yet. But maybe, you can. Enjoy!
1. Potter Hearts

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

* * *

The Ministry of Magic's Atrium was a ruin, the walls covered in deep gouges and long trenches from furious battle. The fountain statues were nearly all reduced to rubble, and water was spilling out onto the marbled floor. Amid this devastation, stood the three authors of the mayhem.

One, wizened, ancient and wearing long green robes underneath an impressive beard, stared through half-moon spectacles in surprise, something not seen on his old face in years. Another, clothed in black and with skin pale and reptilian, gaped in horror, previously cruel red eyes now wide in fear.

The third player stood, black school robe fluttering in a breeze, staring down at the ground as he struggled to catch his breath. In his hands, he held an ornate weapon, a chain at the ends of both rattling loudly in the stunned silence. It was a golden metallic sword with scarlet wings decorating the tip, giving it the basic outline of a key.

The boy looked up at the two other occupants of the room. His green eyes narrowed, scarred-brow furrowing. He held his weapon up, pointing it directly at the reptilian man, as magical power radiated from his body in all directions.

"What is that, Harry?" The bearded man asked in disbelief.

"This... IS FOR SIRIUS!" He bellowed, and leaped into the air.

* * *

Voldemort's presence felt like the scaly coils of a snake, constricting around him. He couldn't see them, he couldn't struggle but they just continued to tighten around him.

_"Just give up and die, boy... You've lost,"_ the Dark Lord hissed in his mind, and Harry was unable to fight back. The grief and despair left over from the rage dragged him down, and he felt as though he was sinking deeper, and deeper, and deeper into a dark sea.

_I can't... Can't breath..._ Harry thought. Death seemed to be fast approaching, and he couldn't help but welcome it.

How long had he fought Voldemort? How many people had he lost to him? Would he continue until there was nothing left? If that was the case, then what was the point of beating him?

There wasn't... Not if he had no one left...

"Harry... Harry."

Harry opened his eyes. Before him stood his godfather, looking serious.

"I'm always Sirius... And I always will be," the man said with a small smirk, as though reading Harry's mind.

"Sirius...? Am I... Am I dead?" Harry asked. Sirius shook his head.

"No... Not yet..."

Harry smiled. "How long until I am?"

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "Not very long... But you shouldn't be looking forward to it."

"Why not? I've lost... I've lost you, I've lost _everything_, Sirius," Harry replied. "There's no one left... I'll never be happy...!"

"Yes you will! Have you forgotten everyone else?" Sirius demanded. The images of his friends' faces appeared in his mind's eye.

"Hermione... Ron... Neville... Ginny... Luna..." Sirius recited. "The Weasleys... _All_ of them are counting on you, Harry!"

"So what?" Harry asked angrily. "What can I do?! I couldn't save you! I can't save anyone!"

"Yes you can! You can fight him!"

"WITH WHAT?!" Harry exploded. "He has all the power! All the followers! All the experience-_I HAVE NOTHING!_"

"That's not true, Harry!" Sirius growled. Everything seemed to be getting colder, darker, even Sirius was starting to fade. "You have never, ever given up when it counted! When lives were on the line! When your friends needed you!"

"So?!"

"So that's your power, Harry!" Sirius shouted. "You refuse to give up, not for anything! Because you know what it's like to lose everything... To have nothing... And you won't let that happen to you again! You love your friends, your family too much!"

Harry clenched his fists. "What good has it done them?! I got them hurt! I got them-!"

"THEY chose to come with you!" Sirius snarled. "You didn't force them, did you?"

"... No..."

"They care about you, Harry... They love you," Sirius said in a softer tone. "Just as your parents love you... And I love you."

"Sirius," Harry said, looking back up. His godfather smiled back, and reached out to ruffle his hair.

"I know... We haven't known eachother long, but... Even if I died trying to save you... As long as you went on, as long as you kept living... It was worth it. Because _you_ are worth it, Harry..." He held Harry's shoulders and leaned down to eye-level.

"And you have the power within you to keep going... To _win_... To make sure that bastard doesn't take anything else of yours."

"... What do I do?" Harry asked.

"Harry... It's not going to be easy," Sirius hesitated. "It's not something to be taken lightly... It's going to bring a lot of trouble your way..."

"... But I'll be able to save my friends?" Harry asked. Sirius nodded.

Harry closed his eyes tightly, shook his head, and opened them again.

"... Then it doesn't matter what it brings... As long as I can do that..."

Sirius smiled. "All right Harry..."

"Will... Will I see you again?"

Sirius smiled. "Someday... But it had better not be soon, you hear me?"

Harry nodded.

"All right Harry... Good luck," Sirius said. In that moment, Sirius vanished, and Harry was falling again, further and further. It was actually getting brighter, and Harry saw a point of light at the bottom. At his back, he felt the darkness and cold closing in around him. Fear rose up-At his speed, whatever he hit... He'd die almost instantly. He felt himself slow.

_Don't stop..._ Warned a voice that sounded almost like Sirius'. Harry took a deep breath, and held his arms as tightly against his body as he could, leaning forward to dive as he would with his broom.

_Don't be afraid..._

The wind rushed loudly past his ears-His eyes began to water, and the light grew stronger. Still Harry fell, that killing blackness no more than a split second behind him.

_Don't stop for anything..._

The light was blinding, Harry closed his eyes. He extended his hands, banishing every bit of fear doubt away-He couldn't afford it. He couldn't let it stop him.

_And fly..._

An object materialized in his hands, and Harry grasped it tightly. Abruptly he stopped, and the air was no longer rushing around him, but filled with an angry scream.

Harry opened his eyes. Voldemort had fallen back, holding his head as he roared in agony. Harry spared a second to glance at the object in his hands.

A gold and scarlet weapon had replaced his wand-Shaped like a giant key, with the teeth at the top represented by a pair of phoenix wings. The guard was circular and done in the same gold as a Snitch was-some of the metal finishing resembled that on his Firebolt. The blade of the weapon was black and textured like stone, perfectly smooth. From the pommel of the weapon hung a chain, and attached to it was a lightning-bolt-shaped charm.

Harry's eyes met Voldemort's. The Dark Lord's mind lashed out at Harry's, but was repelled. Harry tightened his grip on his new weapon.

"What is that, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. Harry held the weapon up.

"This... IS FOR SIRIUS!" He bellowed, and leaped into the air to strike down upon Voldemort with every ounce of his strength he could muster.

* * *

_Well, given I've got a plot bunny collection for _Naruto, Bleach_ and _Eva_, I might as well have one for one of my first major fandoms-_Harry Potter._ Which I did enjoy, even if Rowling seemed to have handed off the story to ghost writers for the last two books and came up with a lot of ridiculousness-Especially that epilogue, ugh. Anyway, this one was inspired by one of M2J MandalorianJedi's "Archive Rejects", which was in turn inspired by "Key Through the Heart" so really, this has come full circle. Any other random _Harry Potter_ ideas I get, they'll show up here. If you wish to use one for your own story, just ask and then go for it._


	2. The Muggleborn Conspiracy

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

* * *

It was amazing really. Dementors, some of the most feared creatures known to wizard-kind. Able to render whole armies helpless with their powers.

And she was standing not five feet away from one, and... Nothing was happening. Only the steady glow of the runes and circuits of the control apparatus that encased the Dementor's head like futuristic dental equipment.

"How did you do it?" She asked the genius behind her. The young man was working at a shielded computer interface, analyzing the data coming in from his devices.

"Wasn't too hard... The MoM's done plenty of research, but didn't think to apply it," he replied with a smirk. "The Imperius Curse can work on a Dementor, you just need to be able to maintain it..."

"You mean... You've digitized the Imperius?" She asked in stunned awe. The genius grinned.

"Broken down the input into ones and zeros... Took me forever, but..." He patted the computer desktop, just one of many machines computing the data furiously. "Definitely worth it."

"How much testing have you done with it?" The young woman asked. The genius shrugged.

"I had it flying around the local suburbs... Nobody got so much as a frown. It wanted to suck out some souls, but..." He smirked. "It couldn't even move when it felt the urge. I can effectively shut down it's metabolism whenever I want."

"How strong is it?" The girl pressed.

The boy answered by inputing a few commands via keyboard. The Dementor's long arms reached down and lifted up a conveniently placed steel girder. The creature proceeded to bend it, and then twist it into a curl without any apparent effort.

"Woah..." The girl murmured. "And... How many have you made?"

"This latest version?" The boy thought it over. "We can have fifty units made by the end of the week. They automatically network in groups so you can utilize them strategically, as well as control them one by one."

Slowly, a wide smile came to her face.

"So... Would you say it's ready for... An actual mission?"

The boy considered. "Depends on what kind."

"Hunter-killer," she replied.

"Target?"

The girl thought about it, considered... And an unpleasant smirk came over her face.

"Malfoy Manor."

The boy nodded. "It can handle it..."

"Well then," she decided, "it's show time."

The Dementor slowly raised it's hood back up, all evidence of it's subjugation gone, save for two glowing eyes in it's hood. As the Dementors were blind, the control system featured cameras to give the operator additional input aside from the creature's natural empathy.

Silently, the creature turned and floated towards the fireplace...  


* * *

The wards of Malfoy Manor alerted the master of the house that someone had just entered his home via Floo from the Ministry of Magic. Lucius, not very happy about being woken up prematurely, ordered a house elf to see to it.

The elf fearfully complied, vanishing, while Lucius got dressed. He left his sleeping wife in their bed and stalked down the stairs, fully intending to toss this intruder out unless there was an actual reason for disturbing his sleep.

"Yes, yes, what is...?" He blinked as he came into the room. The magical light fixtures didn't respond, and a feeling of cold dread filled the room. Lucius shivered as darkness, trauma and depression rose up, and he felt paralyzed.

_No... No... It can't be...!_ He tried to draw his wand, but a rotted hand grasped his arm with strength enough to shatter it.

"AAAHHH-GMPH!" Lucius' screams were cut off by a rotting mouth. His eyes widened as he felt the warmth, the _life_ be drained out of him, and then he knew no more.

Narcissa Malfoy would come down the stairs mere moments later, and scream as she found the dead bodies of their current house elf, and her husband on the floor.  


* * *

The _Daily Prophet_ screamed bloody murder about the murder of Lucius Malfoy, apparently via Dementor, for weeks. When one of Fudge's closest "friends" was murdered by a Ministry creature, well, that was just something even they couldn't suppress, especially considering the outrage his widow and his son expressed.

The Aurors at Azkaban reported that several Dementors had gone missing over the course of the last month, but this information was hushed up quickly. The MoM refused to acknowledge it. However, things go worse after a Muggle-born wizard was sent to Azkaban after performing two Unforgivables on a apparently non-resisting Muggle-born friend of his.

A week after he arrived in the prison, the Aurors reported that several Dementors began to sport glowing blue eyes. No Auror was brave enough to ask why. The week after that, more Dementors gained this feature. A full month later, every Dementor on the island sported glowing blue eyes.

It is at this point contact with the prison was lost for several hours. When it was re-established, the MoM's Aurors were the only things left alive. The Dementors were gone.

And as far as the Order of the Phoenix knew, they were not in Voldemort's possession... Leaving only two questions: Where were the Dementors? And who were they serving now?  


* * *

_The Muggle-borns seemed kind of helpless and disorganized throughout __Harry Potter_. As the main target of Moldieshort's last reign of terror, you'd think more of them would be wary of the next time and organized. But no, they seemed to be mere sheep as well.

However... What if a few weren't? What if a few decided to fight magic with magic and technology? A few who decided that, if this was a war, they were going to have the biggest guns around.

Hence, the Muggle-Born Conspiracy. A group of Muggle-borns and a few Half-Bloods who don't trust the MoM and don't trust Dumbledore to keep them safe from Voldemort, and so take matters into their own hands.

Now, they have an army of Dementors under their control. Some might want to wipe out all the Purebloods and ensure they're never persecuted again, some might want to merely use their Dementors and other magitech as a deterrent, and some might want to ally with Dumbledore against Voldemort. While united in many respects, as they aren't led by a particular Lord they are slightly more divisive. And with the power they wield, the Wizarding War has just gotten a lot more complex.

And Harry Potter, Fate's Bitch, is once again in the middle of it when Hermione learns that the Conspiracy wishes to recruit her so she can influence who they see as the next Light Lord: Harry Potter.  
  
Thoughts?


	3. Razzle Dazzle Them

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

* * *

Draco Malfoy considered it a skill of his to sneak around unnoticed-Particularly by Potter and his Mudblood. As he followed them, he complimented his excellent stealth-Father had said those ballet lessons were a waste of money, but who was able to get late night snacks without being overheard by Mummy?

Certainly not his father, ha!

"I'm telling you Harry, this just isn't the proper way to go about it," Granger was insisting as the two walked out of the library. "Just for Ron?"

"Well, we really do need him to get better about this," Harry said. "After all, he'll appreciate it loads more than we will..."

"Oh really?" Granger asked, arching an eyebrow in a way that was rather sexy to Draco. Maybe he'd get her for his own after the Dark Lord took over the world. Maybe stick her in a librarian outfit, oh yes... With glasses, that'd be even better...

"Really... After all, he needs all the help he can get with, well... You know," Potter broke Draco's erotic musings about turning Granger into his kinky sex pet; something that added to his ire against him but simultaneously intrigued the young Malfoy heir. Helping Weasley out? With what?

"The ritual is rather complex," the Mudblood pointed out, worrying her teeth against her lower lip. Draco found himself back in fantasy land-Sweet Merlin, did everything this girl do seem naughty? Maybe he just had a fetish for bookish girls-Greengrass and her sister were both able to confuse the hell out of him when reciting history or potions theory and his confusion immediately led to lust. Saying such big words so easily...

"So? I think he'd appreciate it... I mean, it's supposed to increase his power by ten times," Potter replied quietly. His eyes cast about the corridor, and Draco hugged the wall. His dark robes helped him blend in-Though they could afford to be less voluminous. He felt like he made such a racket when he moved about.

"Ten times is the most optimistic assessment," Granger huffed. "Twice... Maybe three times..."

"Oh come on... You can make it go ten times, right?" Potter said with a teasing grin. Granger smiled wryly.

"I'm a witch, not a miracle worker..." She pulled out some parchment. "Won't take too long... He might hate us afterwards, you know."

"He'll forgive us... Eventually..." At Granger's pointed look (which made Malfoy again think of his librarian fantasy), Potter shrugged.

"I'll get him a cake... The house elves would love to make one..."

"Honestly Harry, why must you add to their workload?"

"Come on Hermione, we've been over this... It isn't fair but Dobby isn't the average... That, or he bonded to me."

"Magic can be so cruel sometimes," Granger sighed. She turned, and a piece of parchment floated out of her grasp and landed soundlessly on the floor as the two Gryffindors walked away.

Draco waited until he was sure they were gone, and ran up to take the parchment up. His eyes widened and he quickly digested the instructions. Unless he was mistaken, this was the very ritual they were talking about... And at least a doubling of his magical power?! Oh yes... Potter was going to rue the day he interrupted his fantasies about Granger-Er, the day he was born. Yes, born.

He looked over the ingredients and the instructions. None of this was difficult to obtain... Though he'd have to make the "mystic dial of fate" himself.

Oh well... It was worth it for the chance to wipe the smirk off Potter's face, and prove himself to the Dark Lord. Oh yes... First thing he'd request? Granger's life, and a set of costumes. He had so many ideas...!

* * *

The next morning, Draco Malfoy turned lots of heads as he exited the Slytherin Common Room. He returned their stares with a proud smirk-The fools could never suspect that this was merely the prelude to his ascendancy! His power would be great, his foes would fall, he'd finally get that blasted Mudblood for a pet!

Entering the Great Hall, he casually strode out to the center of the room, and produced several different colored pieces of chalk. He'd memorized the instructions and went about drawing the required ritualistic symbols and runes.

"Mr. Malfoy, what exactly are you doing?" Professor McGonnagal asked in her usual stern tone. The Malfoy scion looked up innocently at the Gryffindor head of house.

"I'm doing a special project," he said coolly. He handed over a piece of parchment. "My father has authorized it's execution, and so has Professor Snape."

Indeed, Snape was giving Malfoy an approving expression... Dare he say it, almost amused! Yes, surely he recognized the worth of Draco's endeavors.

"How long will it take you to accomplish this ritual?" McGonnagal asked wryly. Draco snorted.

"Not too long..."

"... Very well... Continue, Mr. Malfoy," McGonnagal replied, her lips twitching. Draco heard some snickers and laughter, but ignored them all. His day had come! Victory would soon be his!

"What the...? Malfoy, what are you doing?"

"Ah, Weasel... So nice to see you," Draco sneered as Ron approached. "You can't possibly comprehend my genius, so I won't bother."

Ron blinked slowly, and then nodded. "Uh huh... Sure..."

He was almost done... And there was Potter and his Mudblood now! Scribbling out the last bit for the ritualistic lines, Draco brought himself up to this full height and sneered back at them.

"Potter, Granger..."

"Malfoy... What are you doing?" Harry asked flatly.

"I really should be thanking you, Potter," Draco sneered. "Without you and your little Mudblood, this wouldn't be possible!"

"Oh no," Granger gasped. "Not that ritual!"

"Yes! Thought you were so clever, huh Granger?" Draco sneered. "Soon as I finish this up, I'm showing you who _really_ has the power in this school!"

"Professor, you can't honestly tell me you're going to let this go on!" Granger protested. McGonnagal's lip twitched again.

"I'm afraid it's out of my hands, Granger..."

"Surely there's something you can do!" Potter demanded. The teacher shook her head.

"He has a note from his father..."

"HA! Now... Here we go!" Draco laughed. He pulled out the "mystic dial of fate" from his robes, and set it on the flood. He leaned down, and spun it once. It spun around and around, until finally... It settled on a color and a body part.

"Right hand RED!" Draco called. He placed his hand down on the appropriate circle, and spun the dial once more. "Left foot GREEN!"

The Muggleborn students laughed as Draco proceeded to play Twister, calling out the various colored circles for himself and eventually ending up in a most uncomfortable position.

"Malfoy... Tell me... Did you do the 'Stretches of Virtue' for the ritual?" Granger asked.

"Haa... Haa... Th-The what?" Draco demanded. His feet were on opposite ends of the ritualistic circle plot, and his arms were twisted around his neck and waist as he struggled to stay on the circles.

"Yeah... There were several stretches you had to do first," Potter added. Draco growled.

"N-No way... It's a trick... Ack! Erk!" He tried to move to spin the dial again, but he had succeeded in twisting himself into a kind of pretzel. "ERK-GAH!"

Draco fell over, and great peals of laughter filled the Great Hall. Draco glared daggers at Potter and Granger, who laughed themselves.

"Oi, Malfoy, shove over!" Weasley joined them. "It's my turn!"

"Did you do the Stretches of Virtue, Ron?" Granger asked. The redheaded twit nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah!"

"Then go ahead."

"Hey wait a second Granger! This is my ritualistic circle!" Draco growled.

"If you'd read the full instructions, Malfoy, you'd know the ritual requires more than one person to be fully effective," Potter said. He smirked. "But you have to begin again... From the start."

Damnit... This wasn't going at all as planned! He just needed to last for fifty spins of the Mystic Dial of Fate-How was he going to get ultimate power now?

"Of course, according to Milton's Theorem of Contrasting Auras, you could both do it at the same time and it would make you both much more powerful," Granger said.

"Is that what you and Harry were doing last night on Harry's bed, Hermione?" Weasley asked. Potter coughed and Granger blushed slightly, though Draco missed both of these due to his position on the floor.

"Ah, yes... Yes it was," Potter replied.

"To hell with the Weasel! I will not-!"

"Mr. Malfoy! If you are going to perform this ritual on the floor of the Great Hall in front of all of us, you may as well share the benefits with others... Besides, you have some stretches to do," McGonnagal ordered. Draco looked over at Snape at the teacher's table, who merely nodded. Malfoy scowled. The only way to keep Weasel from getting the power boost was to sabotage him at every stage... All right then. He'd just have to outplay him, knock him over, and then later tonight he could perform the ritual in peace... No wait. It had to be done at 8 am... Bugger.

Well, he wasn't going to let Weasley beat him, so... The ritual it was. Not that he'd make it easy for Weasley, no!

"Very well... Try to keep up, Weasel!"

"Ha! I can't wait to see your fave when I gain the ultimate power of the Hot Spot!"

* * *

Harry and Hermione watched as more students (a mix of all four Houses and various bloods) tried to get in on the "Power Boosting Ritual". Draco and Ron were still going strong after an hour, and it was little surprise several girls began to watch in glee... Especially when the shirts were lost.

"It's going off even better than I'd planned," Hermione murmured. Harry nodded, resisting the urge to laugh his head off as Ron tripped Draco and both boys slammed into a Ravenclaw girl and a Hufflepuff boy who were both holding their own in the twisted bodies. More than a few witches were now openly drooling.

"Still... These rituals... Not very in-character for you, Hermione," Harry said.

"Oh, and they are for you?" Hermione teased back. The Boy-Who-Was-Hyphenated grinned.

"Well... You said I needed stress relief..."

"And I'm not enough?" Hermione asked, her voice ending in a dangerous (but sexy) purr. Harry smirked, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close.

"More than enough," Harry hissed in her ear, and he enjoyed the resulting shiver. "But that's... A lot more than just stress relief... This?" He gestured to the growing "ritual". "This is just for fun."

Hermione smiled, and kissed his cheek. "Mmhm..." She looked out over the crowd, and a wicked smile came over her lips. Harry wasn't the only one to benefit from "stress relief."

"What do you think we can get them to do next?" She mused.

Harry grinned. "Let's find out."


	4. And Action!

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

* * *

"What's this dad?" A nine year old Ronald Weasley inquired, poking the unusual device his father had brought home. Arthur Weasley smiled at his youngest son, looking around the workshed carefully before leaning down.

"It's a Muggle projector," Arthur related. "It's very interesting... I managed to get a film from America on it... Want to watch it with me?"

"Do I!" Ron enthused.

"ACK! Ginny! Ginny, no!" Cried Molly Weasley outside. "Arthur, she let the chickens out again!"

Arthur sighed. He had really wanted to enjoy this film with his son, but duty (and his wife) called. It was fortunate though-Had she come in, she'd no doubt force him to get rid of the wodnerful device. "I'll be right back, Ron... Keep an eye on this, won't you?"

Ron nodded eagerly as his father left the shed. The eight year old boy studied the device, and in a fit of curiosity, hit a button on it. He yelped when it started up, but his shock turned to amazement when he saw a moving picture on a sheet his father had hung on the far wall.

"Wicked," he breathed, listening to the unusual music and watching as the film followed an eldery librarian. His eyes widened as he saw books and pieces of paper fly up, as though by magic! Did Muggles really make this?

"Oh no... What's that...?" Ron mumbled. His eyes widened as the librarian's clothing was blown by a strong breeze and she was illuminated in a bright light. The title card appeared, and Ron read it aloud.

_"Ghostbusters_... Hmmm..."

And the world changed.

* * *

Luna Lovegood had taken to following Ron around from the age of eight. Before, he had been interesting-Very interesting-But now he was even more interesting to the little girl who had recently lost her mother.

"Hello Ronald," Luna greeted.

"Hello Luna," Ron replied.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"I'm making a movie," Ron said, sitting in front of the rather dated but functional camera he'd set up in his workshop. Well, it was technically the old workshed of the Weasley's, but as he'd taken to spending a lot of his time in it, he'd begun to think of it as his own.

"About what?" Luna asked.

Ron held up a powerdrill, and made sure it was working. "I want to try trepanning myself," he said. "Drill a hole in my head. Old Muggle civilizations used to do it, and people could go around their whole lives with holes in their heads."

"Why would you want a hole in your head?" She asked.

"I dunno... I think it might be kind of neat," Ron said. Luna smiled.

"Can I help?"

Ron blinked, in some mild disbelief. Outside of the Twins and Ginny, nobody else in his family really appreciated what he did. Well, his dad did but he didn't really count as Mum wouldn't let him.

"Sure!" Ron said eagerly. "Ya just operate the camera. Here's what you do..."

A few minutes later, Luna had mastered the camera's operation, and Ron smiled into the lens as he cleared his throat.

"I am Doctor Ronald Weasley," Ron said, "and I'm going to be demonstrating a modern version of trepanning. Ancient Muggles used to do it as a form of surgery, and it was done very successfully actually, as according to my books people could go around with holes in their heads and live healthy lives after."

He turned on the drill and spoke above the noise.

"I am using a Muggle powerdrill because it is much better than using a hand-cranked one! I only need one hand."

Unfortunately, before Ron could begin, Molly burst in.

"RONALD BILLIUS WEASLEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Ron gulped.

"He's trying to drill a hole in his head," Luna supplied helpfully. "Wanna watch?"

* * *

Ron sulked as his mother yelled at him.

"I can't believe-Of all the irresponsible-Do you realize what might have happened?!"

"Yes, I would have had a very interesting movie," Ron said with a scowl.

"You could have killed yourself!" Molly bellowed.

"I wasn't going to get at the brain, I was just going to remove part of my skull and-"

"NO! You cannot do that sort of thing!" Molly growled.

"It would've worked just fine if you hadn't stopped me!" Ron protested.

"Now look here, Ron, I have been very understanding about you making movies, but this-This sort of thing has to stop! If you _ever_ try something like this again, I will take away your camera!" Molly stated.

"No! Please, no Mum!" Ron begged. "I-I won't try to drill a hole in my head, promise!"

Molly scowled, but very slowly nodded. "All right... But to make sure you don't do anything, you're not allowed to operate that thing without someone with you!"

"Awww," Ron pouted. "All right..."

A few minutes later, Ron left the house with his camera, looking glum. Luna was waiting for him.

"Hello Ronald," Luna said.

"Hi Luna," Ron greeted glumly.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"Mum is making me have someone go along with me when I shoot movies," Ron sighed, kicking the dirt. "I don't understand-I got all those great movies by myself! Like when I went to look at that house on fire! And that dragon Charlie let me see!"

"Hmmm..." Luna thought about it. "Well, I want to be a reporter when I grow up... And the Muggles have moving picture news shows! Like radio with pictures!"

"That telly thing, right?" Ron asked. Luna nodded. Ron grinned.

"Hey! We can both be reporters, and shoot things!"

"Yes! And I know just what we should shoot first," Luna said.

"What?" Ron asked.

"The mysterious Ferrous Basilisk," Luna said. "It runs by my house every few minutes."

"Basilisk?" Ron asked, concerned.

"Don't worry, it doesn't kill you when you look at it... Though I've never looked it right in the eyes... It's something to investigate!" Luna said.

Ron may have still be afraid of spiders (a spider-teddy bear wasn't something you got over easily) but his heroes who made those great movies had gotten great shots of zombie plagues, alien invasions, and demonic gods crossing into the human world. He couldn't stop now-He had to live up to his heros!

"All right!" Ron said. "Let's go see it!"

"Yay!" Luna cheered.

* * *

The "Ferrous Basilisk" was actually a Muggle train, but Luna's details about it had dressed it up into such a ferocious beast that Ron decided to go with it. And so, a week later, the Weasleys and the Lovegoods were treated to Ron and Luna's first actual film-The Ferrous Basilisk of Doom.

Ron smiled proudly as his family was awed, sent into hysterical laughter, and... Well actually they mostly just laughed, especially when Cedric Diggory (the hero of the piece) ran from the "Basilisk" with a cheering Luna over his shoulder as the train blared it's horn. But, it was fantastic. Here he had a talent nobody else in his family did.

And he was going to see just how far he could go with it.

* * *

"This is Harry Potter, the wizard who vanquished the Dark Lord Voldemort," Ron said, rolling camera on his new best friend. "Tell me Harry, do you have any plans for this year?"

"Um… Just enjoy going to school, and being away from the Dursleys," Harry said.

"Right… Mind telling me about your life? Like… Are you really going to become a new Dark Lord?"

"Um, no, I wouldn't know where to begin."

"How about a new… Gray Lord?" Ron suggested.

"Gray Lord?"

"You know, a kind of anti-hero who rules over us justly but without the airs a Light Lord would have?"

"Um… No, not really. Don't really know what my plans are, sorry."

"Oh… Mind talking about your life?"

"Uh… Well… Yes, I kind of do," Harry said.

"So, it's kind of tragic and miserable?" Ron asked.

"Yes, very," Harry said. He smiled. "But now I'm at Hogwarts, and it's all better now."

"Right, right…" Ron frowned. Sure, Harry was a nice guy but a documentary on him going to school would be _boring. _Hmm… Dumbledore, that great guy, had approved of Ron's film projects, allowing him to shoot Quidditch games and even a few skits. Maybe he could come up with something for Harry to do that would be exciting?

Harry did mention that Hagrid had taken him to a heavily secured vault in Gringotts in order to retrieve a tiny little object in a bag… Wait, he had it! The object was some kind of magical item of incredible power, yeah! And some dark wizard-Who knows, maybe even Voldemort himself!-would be after it, and Harry would have to stop it! Brilliant!

* * *

"I can't believe this! You call this a well defended magical item of incredible power?" Ron asked flatly. Dumbledore coughed as Luna zoomed about the course to reach the Philosopher's Stone on her broom. Granted, she couldn't attend classes but that had not stopped the young Lovegood from flying in to help her fellow filmmaker.

"Well, ah-"

"The troll, yes, that was brilliant! Harry got to blast it and beat him up, save the girl, which was great!" Ron enthused. Hermione had been very cross with Ron afterwards-She had thought she was in genuine danger. She'd hugged Harry tightly and refused to let go of him until the teachers had arrived... After which she'd chased Ron around shooting fire after him.

That hadn't ended well, but Luna had gotten it on film so maybe he could use it for some other movie.

"But this...!" Ron held his hands out at the obstacle course. "Are you kidding me?!"

"What's wrong with all these traps and obstacles? I think they're very exciting," Dumbledore said.

"A three-headed dog put to sleep with music, a giant plant a first year can defeat, a room of flying keys, a giant chessboard, a troll, a logic problem, and a mirror," Ron said. He pretended to scratch his chin. "Luna, what's the word I'm thinking of?"

"Attempted murder?" Luna guessed.

"No."

"Googleplex?"

"No! Lame, that's the word I'm thinking of! LAME!" Ron said. "Where are the fire breathing dragons? Or the walls that slam down to crush an intruder? Or holes in the walls that shoot poison darts? Or even a bloody locked door! This is all pitiful!"

"Er, well... It is something a group of first years can handle," Dumbledore said.

"Are you kidding?! What kind of great and powerful wizard would protect something that can give you eternal life and make endless amounts of gold with these kinds of traps?!" Ron demanded.

Dumbledore coughed. "What would you suggest, Mr. Weasley?"

Luna zoomed in, looking slightly to the left of Dumbledore's beard.

"May I suggest dragons and tentacle monsters and maybe a chainsaw-wielding maniac?" She said. Ron grinned.

"YEAH! And maybe a giant boulder to chase us around!"

"They did that in _Raiders of the Lost Ark_, Ronald," Luna reminded him.

"Damn! So they did..." Ron sighed. He scowled at Dumbledore, who raised a hand appeasingly.

"Now Mr. Weasley... I assure you, these obstacles will be _very_ exciting."

"They'd better be," Ron grumbled. He shook his head at Luna. "Honestly, who am I working with here?"

* * *

At the Philosopher's Stone...

"There is no good _or_ evil, there is only _power_, and those with the means to-"

"Cut, cut, cut!"

Both Harry and Quirrelmort turned to see Luna and Ron on a broom, Luna dutifully recording the scene while Ron scowled.

"What?! Who are you?!" Voldemort demanded.

"Bloody hell man, that was _terrible_," Ron stated. "You call that an evil villain speech? Also, Ronald Weasley. I'm the director."

"Luna Lovegood, camerawoman and impartial member of the press," Luna supplied.

"Uh, Ron," Harry tried. Ron waved his hand.

"Not now Harry... Look, the whole face on the back of the guy's head? That's good, that's brilliant, but your acting is the hammiest thing ever! How long did you work on that speech?"

Lord Voldemort, more confused than angry, looked uncomfortable.

"Ah..."

"Look, you're supposed to be _Lord Voldemort,_" Ron got out without a shudder-He'd gotten past that for his stop motion movie _Lord Voldemort versus Harry Potter: The Rematch With Dinosaurs_. "The Dark Lord, the most feared Dark Wizard for half a century, and what do you do? You rant at an _eleven year old boy_ like a Roger Moore Bond Villain!"

"How can you tell me how to act?" Voldemort demanded.

"Because I'm the director and I _know_ what actual acting looks like! Again, you're the Dark Lord, the dreaded Evil Wizard! _Why_ do you need to pontificate and blather on like this? It's beneath you!"

"Really?" Voldemort asked. Luna nodded.

"Oh yes-Conveying a subtle terror and menace that creeps up on you, like an invisible serpent coiling around your neck until you cannot breath, is much more suitable for a Dark Lord of your stature. Please note, we only wish to portray you as well as possible, as impartial members of the press."

"Master, I really think we should-" Quirrel began.

"_Silence_ you fool!" Voldemort hissed.

"Yes Master," Quirrel squeaked.

"So... Subtle terror and an overpowering, suffocating menace?" Voldemort asked. Ron nodded.

"Yes, yes... Trust me, it'll be brilliant! Especially when Luna does some nice camerawork to emphasize your power."

"... Very well... Let's try this again, shall we Potter?" Voldemort hissed. Harry, in complete and utter shock, nodded automatically.

"Um, right..."

"And Harry! Stop standing there like a petulant child! You're a plucky boy hero, try to look the part!" Ron ordered.

"Right," Harry said, in some significant disbelief. "By the way, did you just fly over the flames?"

"Yeah," Ron snorted. "Can you believe Dumbledore's idea of traps? I didn't even get hurt during the chess game." He looked over at Voldemort and rolled his eyes. "I'm really sorry you had to waste your time with all that-It's bloody pitiful, isn't it? Three kids could get through it without any help at all in fifteen minutes!"

"Ah... Yes, quite pitiful," Voldemort replied, not about to reveal it took him _three hours_ to get through the traps.

"All right... And... Action!" Ron called.

"Your parents... I regret killing them," Voldemort hissed, as Luna flew in front of him to record. "But with the Philosopher's stone, death is meaningless... Your potential is great, Harry, wasted in this school, under Dumbledore. Together, we can unlock the Stone's secrets... Bring your parents back... You will have your family back, Harry... All that is required, is that you seize the chance! Good and evil are meaningless distinctions, created by those with power... And such power can be yours... _If_ you join me..."

Luna and Ron both shivered, and Luna mouthed "MUCH better" to Ron, who nodded.

"Cut! Great! That was _loads_ better!" Ron enthused. "Harry! Your turn, big reaction!"

"Um, right..."

"Action!"

"You liar!" Harry cried.

"CUT!" Ron shouted. He smacked his forehead and groaned. "That was _terrible!_"

"What?! It was not!" Harry defended himself.

"Quite amateurish, Harry," Voldemort scolded with a smirk. "'Plucky boy hero', indeed."

"Let's try this again... Then Voldemort, you can... Um..."

"Why don't I choke the life out of him, staring into his eyes as the like embers of his soul fade away?" Voldemort suggested.

"Why would a _wizard_ do that?" Ron asked. Voldemort coughed.

"Ah... Makes it more... Dramatic and personal."

"Oh, okay!" Ron said. "Now Harry, let's try it _again_, and this time, get it right!"

Harry's reflection in the Mirror of Erised looked back at him and shrugged sympathetically. Harry sighed.

"Fine..."

"ACTION!"

"You LIAR!" Harry shouted.

"KILL HIM!" Voldemort hissed, and Quirrel seized his chance, flying to Harry and wrapping his hands around his throat. However, when he began burning, Harry slapped his hands around Quirrel's face and the entire two-faced man went up in smoke and screams. Luna dutifully recorded it all, including Voldemort's spirit rising up from the ashes and flying off at high speed through the door.

"... Cut," Ron absently ordered, as Hermione flew over the flames on the broom from the key room. "You know, I think that may have really been Voldemort!"

"YA THINK?!" Harry and Hermione shouted in anger. Hermione landed and went to Harry's side, beginning to fuss over him. Ron was really thankful they had such natural chemistry-Made shooting them so very easy! He also felt his arguments with Hermione about non-film stuff added a bit of comedy-Wait, what was he working on _now?_ Come on Weasley, focus!

"You got all that, right Luna?" Ron asked. Luna, who did not look in the least bit surprised at the revelation that that was the real Voldemort, nodded.

"Oh yes... All things considered, I think the final struggle with Voldemort and his escape were the best parts."

"Yeah," Ron said with a nod. "And I think my scene with the chess board had some real drama..." He sighed. "But Harry's reaction was _still_ bloody terrible! We've really got to do it again-"

Harry had gotten to his feet and decked Ron with a single punch.

"Harry!" Hermione cried.

"What?" Harry demanded, quite cross.

"Ah… Nothing," Hermione said, shivering a bit. "Come on; hold me tightly so I can help you out."

As the fire barring the room had dissipated by this point, Harry allowed Hermione to help him walk out. Ron groaned, and sat up.

"Geez... Dad was right... The stars are a bunch of prima donnas..."

Luna just smiled. This would all make for a lovely behind-the-scenes featurette…

* * *

_Well, you have to admit, it would explain a few things… As for how Years 6 and 7 worked out, that's another story._


	5. Take Two!

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

* * *

"So, you're telling me a house elf was stealing your letters and wants you to avoid going back to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, his ever-present camera running. Harry nodded, more than able to tolerate Ron's filming after he rescued him from the Dursleys.

"Yeah... Name of Dobby..."

"Any idea who his owner might be?" Ron inquired further.

"No," Harry said with a frown.

"So, we've got ourselves a mystery," Ron grinned. "This is great! Horrible danger waiting for you at school, a cryptic warning-This'll be a _fantastic_ film!"

"Ron, does it occur to you that you'll be in the middle of the danger too?" Harry asked flatly. Ron shrugged.

"If Muggle filmmakers can cover zombie plagues and alien invasions, then I can handle some kind of vague, ominous threat."

"Ron, most of those movies aren't _real_ events," Harry emphasized.

"Oh come on, Harry, that's just a result of the Muggles covering it all up!" Ron scoffed.

"How would they cover it up, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Simple. By making movies out of the events and making sure that in the popular imagination, they are pure fantasy," Ron said.

"And films that take place in the future?" Harry asked flatly. Ron shrugged.

"Well, that's speculative, but so what? If aliens have already invaded then why not think we'll see aliens in the future?"

Harry blinked, and worked out Ron's reasoning for himself. He felt a headache coming on.

"At least that's how Luna explains it, and she's never steered me wrong before," Ron said with a grin. "By the way, I released our movie over the summer."

"Wait, released it? To who? Where?" Harry asked with wide eyes.

"Oh, the local Muggle distributor. They think I have a lot of promise! It's even going to an Indy film festival, can you believe it? This'll be great!" Ron cheered.

"I... Can't wait," Harry mumbled.

* * *

"Wh-What do you mean I'm terrible?! I'm the best looking!" Draco whined. Ron sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"Draco, man, you're just too... Well..."

"Pathetic," Luna offered bluntly. The Malfoy heir scowled.

"What?!"

"Well, let's face it Draco," Ron began, "you torment Harry constantly. Your idea of rivalry is to just insult him, try and beat him on the Quidditch pitch, get him in trouble, and when you fail, you run off to daddy." Ron shook his head. "You just don't make a really great rival."

"But-But I can get better! Really!" Draco insisted. Acting had a great appeal to the young Malfoy, given that it showed off how handsome and good looking he was to everyone!

"At this rate Draco, you're just so very, ya know, two-dimensional," Ron said.

"Come on Weasley, give me another chance! I'll get better, you'll see, _loads_ better! Don't you need a rival for Potter? Who else would you get?" Draco asked. Ron thought about it, but Luna answered.

"Blaise Zabini," she said.

"Zabini?!" Draco growled. "What's he got that I don't?!"

"He is handsome, charming, intelligent, crafty, and cunning," Luna said. "With a bit of convincing he could become a true rival to Harry."

"Or maybe Daphne Greengrass," Ron said.

"Rivalry turned to romance," Luna suggested.

"I like it!" Ron grinned. "I like it a lot!"

"No! No! Please Weasley, don't!" Draco begged, all pride forgotten. Seeing how Potter had gotten so much more fame after the movie (and how he'd gotten quite a bit of attention himself), he knew he had to stay in it. "I-I can totally get better! Really! I'm willing to put in the time and effort!"

Ron considered Draco for a moment, then looked at Luna. Luna hummed.

"Well... If he became Harry's rival... _Truly_ his rival by pushing himself to do better in school, in dueling, and in Quidditch..."

"Yeah, yeah?" Draco asked.

"And you stopped acting like a pathetic nancy boy and used a little real cunning," Ron continued the train of thought.

"What about having a crush on Hermione? That he can only express through insults?" Luna suggested. Ron grinned.

"Oooh... I love it! Real Romeo and Juliet thing!"

"Granger?" Draco asked, a bit disgusted. At Ron's glare, Draco nodded.

"Er, sure! I can totally do that!"

Luna handed him a stack of manga. "Read these. The cool, cold, brooding rival is the guy you should focus on. Think about how he acts, his motivations, and think about how it would apply to your own performance."

"R-Right... Thanks Weasley, Lovegood!" Draco ran off. Ron looked over at his partner in crime with a grin.

"Well, that'll get him off Harry's back, anyway..."

"True... The fangirls will insist there's some sort of UST between him and Malfoy though," Luna pointed out. Ron grumbled.

"When don't they?"

"And Hermione will be annoyed," Luna also said.

"The price you pay to make a masterpiece," Ron said. "Now, who's next?"

* * *

_Year Four_

_"Dear Director,  
Sorry about the hand writing, it's hard to maintain legibility when you're possessing a snake. Anyways, I'm not sure if you're aware of this but the Triwizard Tournament is coming up and I was wondering...."_

Ron read the letter once. He read it twice. He scratched his head.

"Luna? Does this plot make any sense to you? I mean, he'd have a polyjuiced Deatheater here, the whole year, teaching us actual things that are useful, and only sending Harry to Voldemort at the end of it?"

Luna thought it over. "Well, if he handed Harry over right at the start then we'd have to fill out the rest of the year with unimportant boring things. Voldemort coming back to life makes for a very good dramatic climax."

"Yeah, but come on, this is so stupid," Ron grumbled. "It's a plot hole a mile wide."

"Perhaps if we made it that the ritual to ressurrect Voldemort needs to be done at a certain time of year, and he only learned of it now, it would work?" Luna suggested.

"Hrmmm... Maybe," Ron thought aloud. "I still don't like it."

"Well, if the Triwizard Tournament is going on, it only makes sense to put Harry into it," Luna suggested. "Every year someone tries to kill him. This is the best way to get him killed."

"You're right!" Ron said with a grin. "Okay! Let's write Voldemort back and let him know his plan is a go!"

* * *

"Um, shouldn't we stop this?" asked Cedric.

"Listen, who is the director here?" glared Ron.

"... Our Lord has changed since he was last with us," simply whispered Crabbe Sr.

Goyle Sr. nodded in agreement.

"Wormtail! I told you the lighting was supposed to be over there! Stop bleeding on the ground and fix it!"

"This is why I suggested he use Union Workers," sighed Luna.

Ron nodded. "Scabs never have the same professionalism."

"Now then Harry, you have been taught to duel, have you not? We are to bow to eachother, as custom dictates," Voldemort hissed. He hid his smile as Weasley gave him a thumbs up-Yes, he was getting this thing down! Really, acting like some kind of mustache-twirling dork, as Lovegood had put it, really was pitiful. Why couldn't he have had someone like Weasley working with him during the first rise? His ideas were brilliant.

_Play the Pureblood against eachother, then the Muggleborn, and sieze power with the ones who have actual merit! Brilliant! I'd finally get rid of Goyle, Crabbe, Malfoy, all of them useless..._

"Bow, Harry..." He hissed. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"I... I won't!"

The Imperius Curse lashed out at Harry, but still the boy held firm.

"I WON'T!"

His Death Eaters looked affronted at this disrespect. Voldemort, for a moment, was tempted to sneer, but he caught Ronald's eye and maintained his cool. _Remember, you are the badass Dark Lord. You show no fear, you do not let one little boy's defiance get to you. He is your equal, after all..._

"Very well..." He lashed out with a Crucious Curse, which Harry dodged. Rather than return fire though, Harry leapt into the air, rising like a bird and flying right at Voldemort.

"HIYAH!" Harry cried, kicking the Dark Lord right in the face. He went down hard, and Harry landed, kicking and punching him furiously. "DIE! DIE! DIE!"

"OW! STOP IT! OWOWOWOW!"

"Cut!" Ron sighed. "Voldemort, what are you doing?"

"What am _I_ doing?! What is _he_ doing?" Voldemort hissed, after throwing Harry away with a bit of wandless magic. He slammed into a tombstone and grunted.

"Urk...!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "You read the script! You two fight, hand to hand, your magic lifting you and becoming an extension of your bodies!"

"I thought you meant that metaphorically! And I'm a _wizard_, why would I use kung fu?" Voldemort asked flatly.

"Because among your various studies included visits to East Asia, learning of the link between body and mind, and body and magic," Luna said. "Kung Fu is to become a force of nature yourself, and therefore, fight as an element of Life itself. Evil practioners twist Kung Fu into a weapon of Anti-Life."

"It's all perfectly symmetrical!" Ron enthused. Voldemort considered this. He had dabbled in some Eastern magic, naturally, but had not learned any martial arts. There was merit to the argument-Being able to kill a man with a wave of his hand certainly appealed to him. There was just one problem.

"I don't know any Kung Fu!" Voldemort protested.

Ron groaned. "Damnit...!"

"Harry, it's okay Harry, drink this," Hermione said, fussing over Harry as usual. Ron didn't mind it, but did she have to come along every time they filmed with Voldemort? It's as if she expected Harry to get hurt.

... Well okay he _did_ get hurt, but nothing terribly bad.

"I had Harry going through Kung Fu courses all summer long and you didn't bother to learn too?" Ron asked in disbelief. Voldemort's red eyes narrowed.

"I didn't have much of a body until _twenty minutes ago._"

Ron paused. "Oh... Good point. How about we film this scene later then?"

"Later?!" Voldemort protested.

"Well you can't become a kung fu master in a few minutes now can you?"

_"Legimens,"_ Voldemort cast. Harry screamed.

"HEY! GAAHHHH!"

"There, done, I know kung fu, let's get on with it!" Voldemort said. Ron nodded and grinned.

"All right! Places!"

"Ron, let Harry rest! He's very-!"

"We're burning night!"

"He needs his-"

"Every moment is-!"

Ron was blasted through a tree by a spell. Voldemort and his followers slowly looked at where their director now lay, and then slowly back at the furious Hermione, her wand crackling with power.

"We. Are. Taking. A. _Break_," she hissed.

"... Do as she says...!" Ron managed to gasp out, as he twitched in agony.

Voldemort slowly nodded. "Of course... WORMTAIL! Fix that light, will you? Merlin you're useless! Goyle, go to the local pub, get some food. Smoke if you've got 'em!"

His very confused followers headed off, while Voldemort himself reviewed the script quite some distance from the irate brunette. Not that he was afraid of her, of course not, but simply because the light was better here. Yes, that was it.

"... I have no clue what's going on," Cedric mumbled.

"Cedric, you're supposed to be dead," Luna gently reminded him.

"Oh, right."

* * *

Harry and Hermoine settled down somewhat close by each other but not so close as to break the well kept secret that they were secretly into each other. And by well kept it was really only those two thought it was still a secret they were together.

Anyways, apparently Ron has finished his most recent film including Harry and was now doing a private showing for a close select few. He has refused to let them know what it was, just that he has decided to branch into a new area to see what he could do with it.

So it became a little worrisome when the title popped up as the film rolled reading "Harry Potter and the Unsatisfiable Sex Friend." Sure enough some cheesy porn music became playing as the camera zoomed in on an undressing pair of Harry and Hermoine as they explored one of the more likeable uses of a classroom in Hogwarts.

Harry was absolutely stunned as he slowly watched the actions that had taken place just a couple of days ago being replayed for him. Hermoine on the other hand, was pratically glowing red with anger with every second the movie played.

"Can I do amateur porn or can I do amateur porn!" Ron was quite proud of his achievement and was sticking his chin up in glory, hence making it a perfect target as Hermoine's fist slammed into it.

* * *

"Ron?"

"Yes, Luna."

"I know we can use these as filler for scenes and even advertisements for our movies. But was it really necessary to send Lord Voldemort to torture muggles?"

"Luna, remember, they have taken my dream, my vision ... and written gay fanfic about it.

"Besides, the other stars aren't complaining. Right Harry?"

"Right. See, Hermione! Snape sucks as a spy and a torturer! Make them bleed for writing Harry/Voldemort!"

"The Headmaster would be most disappointed in you, Potter," sneered the Professor.

"They also wrote James/Severus," offered Luna.

"... CRUCIO!" bellowed Snape.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Oh, such passion..." murmured Ron. "I love it when the actor delivers on the first take!"

* * *

_Written with considerable help from Innortal, cjonbloodletter, and Takerial, who are all incredibly awesome._


	6. How I Would Have Ended Book 7

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

Author's Note: _Book 7 had two Trios-One went camping and were essentially doing nothing save for a scavenger hunt to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes so he can die for good, even though it'd have been easier to just kill him and then destroy his little soul anchors. The other Trio fought a resistance against Voldemort, coming up with clever and inventive ways to keep the pressure on the Dark Side and showing incredible courage in the face of adversity. And the leader of said Trio, the leader of the resistance, who had been a shy, under confident, pudgy and forgetful boy at the start and turns into fucking _John Conner._ And his greatest moment is slaying Voldemort's last Horcrux and defying the Dark Lord with a roar of "DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY!"_

_The leader of the other trio died (because he had to), got retconned MacGuffins to help win the day, and finally defeated Voldemort by _MONOLOGUING. _His best moment._

_Please, we can do better than that. Ginny can do better than that.  
_

* * *

"Nnnn..." Ginny Weasley sighed, and snuggled deeper into her covers. She opened her eyes slowly, and winced a little at her first hangover. "Gaahhh..." She closed them again.

She tried to pull her pillow over her head, but it was caught under something. She groped for whatever it was, and her hands slid over a face. Ginny froze.

"Hnnn...?"

She managed to open her eyes all the way, and when they adjusted she found she was staring at the face of Neville Longbottom, peacefully sleeping. Her brain fought through her hangover, slowly putting the pieces together, as she looked around the room.

One: This was not her room. She didn't know whose it was, but the decor was cheerful and warm and there was a mural on the ceiling depicting the "Ministry Six" surrounded by glowing letters.

Two: She was in bed with Neville Longbottom. She lifted the covers.

Three: They were both naked... Very naked... Especially Neville... Her face turned as bright as her hair as she caught herself staring.

_I knew he'd filled out and I knew he was brave and strong, strong enough to cut Nagini in half with a single blow but... But... Wow!_

"Haa..." Neville sighed in his sleep, and turned over, pressing against her. Ginny's blush grew deeper as her brain, still slowly waking up, managed to put several other bits of information together into their proper context.

Like the fact she was pleasantly sore between her legs, and her hangover was dueling with the last remnants of what had to have been a fantastic afterglow. She wrapped her arms around Neville's shoulders and rested against him, and he snuggled against her. Her face just got redder.

_Merlin, ten times? TEN TIMES?_

That she could remember... But why did someone blonde keep popping up in her memories?

The door opened, and Ginny looked up. Luna Lovegood, naked as the day she was born, entered the room carrying breakfast. Slowly, as though she was sore too.

She gave Ginny a very warm smile, and a wink. "Good morning Ginny..."

Ginny stared for a bit longer, and numbly accepted the breakfast-Hot scones with jam, butter and honey decorating whipped cream. She ate some before she remembered how to make her mouth work.

"Ah... Luna? What happened last night?" She asked.

"Mm? Oh," Luna said, "Neville was trying to escort us to our homes after Harry killed Voldemort, as we were both extremely drunk, and as he was getting me to my bedroom you shoved him onto the bed and proceeded to ravish him." Luna said this quite calmly, as though talking about the mail. Ginny blinked.

"Ah... Right...?"

"Then you ravished me, and we ravished him together, and he ravished us... I lost count of my orgasms, what about you?" Luna asked. Ginny blinked again.

"Ah... Ten... That I can remember..."

"Good... You know, it's good you're so calm, I half expected you to begin screaming, and that would just wake up Neville," Luna said. She lovingly patted Neville's head. "He needs his rest."

"Yeah," Ginny said, wondering if she'd gone insane. "He does."

Luna left the food on the side table, and charmed it to keep it warm. Then then turned to Ginny with a predatory smile.

"While he's asleep though..."

"Ah... Luna... Wait, I'm not-Mmph!"

Ginny's brain, still in it's hangover stupor, tried to find some reasons to protest but they were lost as Luna proceeded to reenact parts of last night. When Neville woke up to this sight, he joined in again too.

And any further protests or lingering feelings for Harry Potter were loudly and effectively silenced.

All was well.

* * *

_How I would have ended Book 7. _


	7. Leaving Hogwarts

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

* * *

"I think you heard me the first time, sir. I'm leaving Hogwarts."

Dumbledore frowned, leaning back behind his desk. "Any particular reason why?"

"Several, actually. They're all on the scroll."

Dumbledore opened the scroll, twinkling eyes behind crescent-moon shaped spectacles widening and widening with every line. He finally looked up, his cheeks slightly pink.

"You... I mean... _These_ are the reasons you are leaving Hogwarts?"

Luna Lovegoode nodded, dreamy blue eyes frighteningly serious.

"Yes. These are all grave, very grave failings in your school, Headmaster. I did consider a lawsuit, but my daddy decided against it. We've got our attorneys tied up battling for moogle thumper rights and trying to subpoena Minister Fudge for his heliopath army." Luna sighed. "My daddy only wants the best for me, but I cannot sacrifice his dream for mine!"

Starry eyed (which was saying something considering who she was talking to), Luna looked up at the ceiling, a fist clenched and raised to complete the drama of the moment.

"No... I shall have to keep at it, never giving into defeat! One day, I _will_ seduce Harry Potter, and be the first wife in his harem!"

"... Ah... I see..." Dumbledore coughed. He smiled gently. "If I may ask though, Miss Lovegoode... How will you 'seduce' young Harry if you are going to a different school?"

Luna waved that off, dramatic pose forgotten.

"Oh, that. He's transferring with me."

"What?" Dumbledore asked, eyes wide again. Luna reached across the desk and pushed her scroll off a stack of parchments.

"His reasons for transferring are not my own, but I felt it best to get mine out of the way first. His are less important in the grand scheme of things: Lackluster teaching, constant endangerment, allegations of sexual harassment," Luna went on seriously, shaking her head. "Really, he has such odd ideas about priorities. Oh well, no matter. This will make my job easier, as the other girls I wanted for his harem are transferring too."

Dumbledore's mouth had been hanging open from the moment Luna began her explanation. He looked through the parchments, eyes no longer twinkling at just how many students were leaving with Harry.

"Well, if there is nothing further, I'll be going now. Oh! Might want to keep your mouth closed, Humdring Gabblers might fly in," Luna warned. With that she turned and headed out, whistling a tune from an old Muggle TV show. Dumbledore just blinked, before closing his mouth.

"Harry Potter? Please report to the headmaster's office," he croaked through an intercom spell. A pause.

"_Sorry Headmaster, Harry is no longer here,_" a tinny voice reported back. Dumbledore groaned, and held a hand to his forehead.

"Just where did I go wrong?"

- - -

"So, all done then?" Harry asked, smiling broadly at Luna. The blonde smiled back and nodded.

"Yes. Easy enough really."

"Good work Luna. Thanks for buying time for us," Hermione added gratefully. Dressed in a black one-piece bathing suit and white button-up shirt, she relaxed on her beachtowel in the shade, reopening her book to find where she left off. Across the sands, Ron, his brothers and several former Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw boys flew on brooms, throwing a volleyball around and laughing merrily. Neville was swimming happily in the surf, a number of other former Hogwarts students cheering and swimming merrily. Harry looked over the members of the DA with an honest grin, and leaned back on his own beach towel.

"This, ladies, is a good day," Harry laughed.

"It's about to get even better," Luna said happily. Harry looked up at the smiling blonde curiously.

"Oh? How?"

In one smooth motion, Luna stripped off her robes, unveiling a very tight and thin blue bikini, on a fit, curvy if pale body. Harry gaped, face turning bright red. Luna stretched and smiled at him in a way that instantly tightened his pants.

"Because now, we don't have to put up with any more robes. I've heard that several American schools have nudist options," Luna replied dreamily. Harry gawked in disbelief... Before his brain processed what she'd said last and made him blush even harder.

"Right! Don't worry Harry, nudist beaches are a lot of fun, and we'll be with you every step of the way if you're uncomfortable," Hermione piped in with a wink. Harry coughed and stood up, shuffling away.

"Excuse me... I need, um... A shower. Yeah," he mumbled. Luna and Hermione watched him go, before exchanging grins.

"How long until he snaps, do you think?" Hermione asked the younger girl eagerly. Luna sat down on the beach towel, stretching cat like before she answered.

"Four days, maximum. Daphne and Tracy are already covering the shower, and Hanna and Susan should be out and about soon."

"All according to plan then," Hermione smiled. Luna smiled and nodded back.

"Yes, yes... Muahahahaha! Muahahahahaha!"

Hermione blinked, and awkwardly joined in the blonde girl's evil laughter as the gulls cried overhead and the waves crashed against the shore.

* * *

_Just a bit of random silliness._


	8. The Wand Chooses the Wizard

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

Author's Note: _I toyed with a different direction for _Harry Potter and the Combat Butler _for a while, which is one of many reasons it's been taking me so long to resume that story. This is the original direction, which I've decided doesn't really work for it. However, it's interesting enough in it's own right I decided to put it up here. It's based on an idea thread posted by sith2886 on The Fanfiction Forum, and is a slight crossover with _Bleach._ Please enjoy _The Wand Chooses the Wizard.

* * *

After a few months with Castor as his bodyguard, Harry thought that maybe, just maybe, he could stop being surprised by him.

Well, Castor could still surprise surprise him-The man could seem to suddenly appear in a room, as casually as you please, almost as though he had apparated in.

(Hermione had subsequently checked out several books from the library to double-check, at Harry and Ron's request).

But other than that... He'd seen Castor happy, serious, angry... Not sad so much as wistful, but still. Harry thought that maybe, just maybe, he was seeing into what made the man tick. He'd been trying to figure out how his bodyguard was able to read people so well, looking for connections in their body language, and he thought he'd been getting pretty good. Sure had helped him avoid totally screwing up a date he went on with Parvati to make up for the Yule Ball.

However, it seemed that he still had a lot to learn.

"GOOD MORNING, HARRYYYY!"

_WHAM!_

"ARRRGGGHHHHHH!" Harry screamed, kicked out of bed and landing on the cold castle floor below. He groaned and glared up at a broadly grinning Castor, perched above him like a gargoyle.

"Castor! What the bloody hell was that for?" Harry demanded. The rest of the boys in the dorm, also awakened by the ruckus, began to complain. Ron threw a pillow at Castor, which he managed to duck.

"Aha! Caught you off guard, didn't I? Well, guess what, Harry? Since today is Saturday, it's time to begin some new training!"

Harry groaned. "Training?"

"Yep! Awesome training! You'll like it!"

"I won't, will I?" Harry asked flatly. Castor shrugged.

"I think you'll like the results! Now, up! Up, you lazy bum! You too, Ron! HIYAH! WOOPAH!"

"GAAAAHH! YOU BLOODY GODDAMNED BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!"

"Good initiative, my student! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

* * *

After getting changed and prepared, Harry had been taken down to the Room of Requirement with an irate Ron, a sleepy looking Hermione, and an austere looking Luna. Castor himself looked positively giddy as he opened the door to the Room.

"Come on in, come on in!"

Harry blinked. Rather than appearing like a room of the castle, the Room of Requirement seemed to be outside. Blue sky sat behind a vast, rocky wasteland.

"How...?" Harry asked in disbelief. Hermione blinked at it.

"It's... It's like the roof of the Great Hall, only it extends to the walls too...!"

"All right Castor, what the bloody hell are we doing here this early in the morning?" Ron asked angrily, as the door shut behind them. Luna walked next to Castor, who now donned a green and white striped hat that shadowed his eyes.

"And why's Loony here?"

"Ron!" Hermione said disapprovingly. Castor smiled and pulled a cane out of his pocket, leaning on it slightly. Harry was vaguely reminded of the actor who played Willie Wonka in the original movie. Gene something?

"It's quite simple," Castor said eagerly. "Thanks to Luna's help, and some correspondence with some of my friends overseas, I've found a whole new way for you guys to kick ass. And in copious amounts."

"Eh? How?" Ron asked flatly. Castor waved a hand to Luna, who held out her wand to the Trio.

"_Selene_," she murmured, and her wand burst into light, flaring dramatically. Harry, Hermione and Ron all stared in stunned shock at what Luna held after the light faded.

It seemed more a scepter than a wand now, the handle midnight blue with glittering stars flowing through it as though it were water suspended in the form of a scepter. At the tip was a small sphere that glowed faintly, a dark shadow covering it's face. Harry abruptly realized it was a miniature moon.

"Woah... How'd she...?" Ron tried. "What is...?"

"Words, Ronald," Luna said quietly. "Words are how one defines the world around them, correct? What would the world be like without language? There wouldn't be a world would there? You wouldn't have a name for it. It'd just be blank. Not even blank, since blank describes something. It would simply be."

"Words are especially powerful in magic," Castor took up the explanation. "Words are the tools by which you focus your spells. Language describes and conceptualizes your intent into action." Castor grinned.

"Just as important as words, however, are names. Names give meaning. Names give you an identity, because without an identity, what are you? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. This is vitally important in magic to have a sense of self, otherwise you have no will through which to wield it."

"So... Is it like a secret name in some cultures? The belief that knowing one's true name gave you power over another?" Hermione guessed. Castor shook his head.

"Hmmm... Sort of... In this case, you are finding out the name of a part of yourself."

"... The wand," Harry realized abruptly. "Luna's wand has a name."

Castor grinned. "How'd you figure that out?"

"Well... She said something... _Selene_... And the wand transformed, so... What else could it be?" Harry asked, feeling a little nervous. Castor's broad smile changed that, though Hermione's slight scowl was unnerving.

"Exactly! You've heard that wands choose the wizard, correct? Well, it works both ways. Once you find your wand, you connect to it. It's part of you. And that part of you is different enough that it has it's own name. After all, it didn't meet you until you were 11. It's not going to be exactly like you."

"So, Luna found out the name of her wand... _Selene_, a Greek moon Goddess," Hermione thought. Luna shrugged.

"Yes, it seemed very literal... Selene is so much like me she felt it better to have a name that was only related to what I was named for rather than be exactly the same. After all, there's only one moon. If there were two Lunas, then I would require a Mars."

"... Huh?" Ron asked. Hermione blinked slowly. Harry was a bit worried that he'd understood that.

"So! Starting today, we'll be working on finding out the names of your wands," Castor said. He whipped out a fan.

"It will be hard, arduous... But definitely entertaining! Ku ku ku ku!"

"... Why are you making those sounds?" Harry asked.

"I'm getting into the spirit of things, you might say. Ku ku ku-OW!"

Luna had bopped Castor on the head with her wand with a serene smile.

"Bad pun. Minus four points."

"Four points? Oh c'mon!"

"It will be five if you continue to whine," Luna stated simply. Castor pouted.

"I never get to do anything _fun_..."

"... They're both nutters, aren't they?" Ron asked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It took you _this long_ to figure _that_ out?"

* * *

The Room of Requirement was in it's "Open Sky" configuration, and had been for the last month whenever the Trio, the Twins, Luna, Ginny, Neville and Castor had entered it. Harry and Hermione had decided to keep the knowledge of wand release a secret until they could do it safely, but so far they hadn't been able to do so. Desperate, Hermione and Luna did research into the problem. They finally arrived at a quick, but potentially dangerous way to do it, theorized by an old authority on Eastern magics with the pen name "W. Kitsune".

First, they would be put into a deeply meditative state through a specially brewed potion. Next, they would be placed in boxes made of magically reflective material Castor was able to get his hands on, focusing their magic inward. And finally, they would be left in there with their wands until they could communicate with their wands.

How long that would take would depend on them. Hopefully it wouldn't take more than the weekend, otherwise they'd have to be brought out and they'd have to start again. And two days without food or water would be rough on them all. Which was why Harry and Hermione had volunteered to go first (and Ron as well, after being guilted into it by Ginny).

Hermione had managed to learn her wand's name after ten hours, emerging with _Maeve_ in it's released form of a small, elegant baton with a long red ribbon attached to the handle that Hermione could wield with a thought and could slice stone with if she focused. Hermione came out with very, _very_ red cheeks, and an indignant look that didn't reach her eyes.

Ron emerged from his box twelve hours later, bearing _Sprenger_. His wand resembled an oversized chess piece with a lance-shaped head, that Ron could extend at will into a spear. Ron also looked very chastened and thoughtful, and simply asked to be left alone. They'd agreed to this, Luna telling Ron that the opening was often the hardest to make, but he'd castled at the right time. Ron had stared at her for a few moments, before smiling at her and nodding.

And now, thirty hours into the experiment, they were still waiting on Harry. Hermione had suggested getting him out about six times now, getting more and more worried, but each time Castor would look to Luna and the blonde girl would just smile back at him.

"Not yet," Castor spoke quietly. He smoked his cigarette, pale eyes locked on Harry's box. Luna was the first to release her wand, and her insight, well... The ex-Malfoy found himself trusting her.

"But he's... He's been in there so long..." Hermione bit her lip. Castor glanced at Luna. The blond tilted her head and looked somewhere over Castor's left shoulder.

"They all seem hollow at first... But it's just turned inside out," she said. She began to hum a random tune, and Castor turned his gaze back to the box.

"Yep."

"... You didn't understand what she said at all, did you?" Hermione asked accusingly. Castor shrugged.

"Hero's Code of Heroic Heroing Rule 1: Have faith. It never hurts."

* * *

_**Harry**_

It was dark. It was stuffy. It was cramped.

It was _familiar_.

"No," Harry murmured, blinked in disbelief. The walls of his cupboard expanded but it did not alleviate his discomfort, only making him feel smaller and more vulnerable. "This-This can't be real!"

"It is as real as you imagine it to be," a cool, feminine voice said. Harry spun around, searching the darkness for the source of the voice, but there was nothing. Only the vaguest hint of feathers and long curly hair brushing against his mind, just as quickly vanishing.

"Who... Are you my wand?" Harry asked. The voice laughed quietly, sadly.

"Your wand? I am no one's wand..."

The cupboard had grown to the size of Hogwart's main hall, and Harry felt an all encompassing fear and helplessness fill him.

"I had one... One who might wield me," continued the voice quietly, yet it was almost as if she was speaking right into his ear. "One who might speak to me. One who was strong, and would tap, reach _deep_ enough to almost hear me..."

The voice sighed. "But here... _Here_ is where he dwells. Where he was _broken_."

"I'm not broken," Harry growled. "This isn't-This is _not_ where I am! Not anymore! NEVER again!"

"Then why do you allow your strings to be tugged?" The voice inquired. "Why do you allow them to keep you here? Helpless? Lost?"

"I... I don't want them to be! I don't want to be controlled anymore!" Said Harry. He looked at the walls in fury. "I AM NOT HERE ANYMORE!"

His magic flared into existence around him, the air humming and churning as his power boiled it. The walls of the cupboard began to break apart, began to shatter into nothingness, leaving only clear, blue sky behind.

Harry started, and gazed around. Here... He was standing on a cloud, looking down upon the Earth stretched out before him. He looked up, and saw the hints of twinkling stars far above. Warm wings wrapped around him as a very female body pressed against his back.

"Don't feel fear," she whispered. "Don't feel angst. Don't feel helpless. Trust in you. Trust in me. Trust in the power you wield, the power you have." A smile was in her voice as she breathed in his ear, and he blushed.

"You feel the wind, you see the sky. This is freedom, Harry... _This_ is power. To fly above all others and feel the sun glowing down upon you, without doubt. Others try to pull you down, others try to clip your wings, but you know who won't. You know what won't."

Harry shook and looked down. "What... What do I have to do?"

The woman pushed him forward just a bit. Harry saw that his cloud was vanishing, that gravity was aching to yank him back into his grasp.

"Trust, Harry," she whispered. "Trust yourself... And trust me."

"I..." He closed his eyes. "I'll fall..."

"You have been falling for a very long time," she said. "But that's how you learn to fly."

Harry took deep breaths. He felt a soft hand reach for his own, and he grasped it tightly. He nodded.

"I'm ready..."

"Then go forward, Harry..." She laughed in an extremely familiar way, as Harry took his first step. "And know that I will catch you..."

Harry kept his eyes firmly open, felt the sun upon him... And leaped out into the clear blue sky.

"_I will give you power over that which your enemy fears above all else,_" the wand's spirit whispered sensually into Harry's ear. _"You will become that which that snake loving bastard flees, if you _take it. _You will be FREE. Now, what is MY NAME?_"

"_PERSEPHONE!_" Harry roared, eyes opening.

The tired observers outside saw Harry's box explode into pieces, a quick Shield Charm cast by Hermione preventing any of the debris hitting them. All eyes were on the sight that greeted them as the massive maelstrom of magic and wind died down, the kicked up smoke and fog slowly settling. Ron joined them from where he'd been sleeping in the Room, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

"Wh-What the bloody hell?" Ron gasped. Luna smiled, and Castor smirked.

"He's out," Castor commented. Hermione moved to rush to Harry, but Luna reached out to grab her shoulder. The smaller girl was able to halt the Muggleborne's run, who looked back at Luna in shock.

"Wait," she said. Hermione turned back as the dust and smoke finally cleared... And her jaw dropped.

"Harry...?"

The figure was pure white, from snowy hair to bleached-out shoes. His robe waved in an non-existent breeze and looked almost artfully ragged, like the funeral shroud of an ancient king. In his right hand was a _schiavona_, bone white and gray, the basket hilt criss-crossing over Harry's hand like a metal spider web. The pommel of the sword bore a black ribbon, like something one would wear in mourning.

Harry slowly looked up, and Hermione couldn't help her gasp. His eyes had turned almost entirely black save his irises, which glowed a vibrant green.

"Well now," Castor said with a grin. "That's unexpected."

"Harry!" Hermione rushed towards him, arms out to hug him. Harry smiled at her and reached out his arms to catch her, and they embraced.

"Oof! Hermione! Hey! Relax!" Harry said.

"You-You're-You're okay! You're okay... Would you _stop_ making me worry so much?" Hermione growled. Harry coughed.

"I-I don't mean, to, seriously..."

"Well..." She pulled back and looked him over. "Well, you... You definitely look..." She shook her head. "Just what did it _do_ to you?"

"Well, her name is _Persephone,_" Harry volunteered. He coughed. "She said I, well... That I would be a master of Death."

"Master of Death?" Hermione asked, mystified. She hummed.

"Try to fly."

"Huh?" Harry asked. Hermione scowled.

"Well, you're stark white, you're a 'Master of Death'..."

"Bloody hell Harry, you don't do anything half-way," Ron commented, as he and the others approached. He shook his head. "You look dead scary!"

"If you must devour my soul, Harry, I must request you take my virginity first," Luna said airily. Harry choked and Hermione gawked.

"LUNA!"

"You're not out to become 'King', are you Harry?" Castor asked with a grin. "Because you're not quite there yet..."

Harry stared between them, and sighed. "You're making references to obscure stuff again, aren't you?"

"Somewhat obscure," Luna observed.

"Depends on your point of view," Castor grinned. "So, let's see what you can do, shall we?"

What Harry found he could do was a pretty decent amount. When Ron rushed him with _Sprenger_, his best friend rushed right through him, through Harry moved a little and confessed he felt Ron push him. A little focus and he was soaring through the air of the Room above, moving about at will through the air. Hermione resolved to begin researching other abilities of ghosts and Harry decided to try and find some of the Hogwarts ghosts for help with his new powers. This said, Castor told them all that they had to get to bed if they wanted to go to classes on Monday, and Harry attempted to reseal his wand.

Nothing happened.

"Uh... Guys? Little help?" Harry asked. Hermione frowned.

"Have you tried using your wand's name?"

"Yes."

"Have you focused on the image of you normally?"

Harry tried... And shook his head. "Nothing."

"Maybe you've got too much magical energy?" Castor suggested. "Try burning it off."

That didn't do anything either. Harry unleashed a few dozen Blasting and Burning Hexes and Curses, and even a number of Patronuses, but his skin and robes still stubbornly remained dead white.

"Um... I dunno... Can you try 'finite incantatum' on yourself?" Ron asked. At Hermione's look he shrugged. "What? You have any better ideas?"

"Well..." Hermione tried.

"Umm..." Castor said.

"Right, give it a shot Harry!" Ron grinned. Harry shrugged and pointed his sword at his temple.

_"Finite Incantatum!_" He cried. A flash of magic left the tip of his wand/sword, hit him, wavered over him... No change.

"Well, at least we know you can't be forced out of this form by enemies," Hermione said, trying to find the bright side. Harry sighed.

"Luna? Do you have any thoughts?" He asked. The blond girl hummed thoughtfully.

"Well... It seems your wand doesn't want to go back inside just yet."

"So... What, I just wait until it wears off?" Harry asked. Luna hummed again.

"I suppose... A Crumple-horned Snorkack might be able to help, but they are rather difficult to find."

"Rather difficult?" Hermione asked flatly. Luna nodded.

"Indeed Hermione."

"Well... look on the bright side," Castor said with a smile. "It's a daring look, but I think you can pull it off."

Harry groaned.

* * *

The prospect of being stuck in his "ghost form" until it wore off looked like it might lead to a similar situation as last year, or his second year-Namely of the student body regarding him with suspicion and distrust. Fourth year, he decided, was probably the worst given that Ron had abandoned him and the Hufflepuffs had united with the Slytherins against him for his perceived entrance into the Tri-Wizard Tournament for more fame and glory.

How they would react to him looking like Death, with his wand turned into a ominous looking sword... Harry didn't know.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Castor all accompanied him down to the Great Hall for breakfast. His wand was stuck to his back, being able to Sticking Charm itself to anything with only a thought. That was definitely a handy thing to know-It was far too big to fit in his pocket.

Classes might be a bit awkward though.

"Well, here we go," he muttered as he and his friends reached the doors to the Great Hall. Hermione squeezed his hand comfortingly. Ginny shook her head with a sigh. Luna smiled serenely. Ron huffed. Neville looked grim. Castor smoked a cigarette, looking totally unconcerned.

"Relax Harry... I'm betting you'll get even more fangirls with this," Castor said. Harry gulped, not just from the mental image, but from the scowls Ginny and Hermione now wore.

"That's the _last_ thing I want!" Harry protested. Ron shook his head.

"C'mon already, I'm hungry! And I do think you should relax too."

"Huh?" Harry asked, staring at his often jealous friend. Ron shrugged.

"You'll scare the hell out of any of those gits who try to mess with you, I know it." Ron grinned at Neville.

"Sides, you're not alone now are you?"

Harry looked over at Neville. The boy shrugged, and drew his wand with a smile.

"Might want to stand back," Neville warned. The others did so, and Neville took a deep breath.

"_TORRWYR LLOER!_" He shouted, and a large, powerful burst of black flames later, he stood in his own released form. He smiled encouragingly at the staring Harry.

"Now you won't be the only guy with a sword and funny looking robes," Neville said cheerfully. He coughed a bit when he saw Ginny staring at him, jaw dropped. Hermione was also eyeing him, and Luna gave him an almost... Hungry smile.

"Er... Um..."

Harry couldn't help but crack his own grin at both Neville's support, and his appearance. Neville had sprouted up over the summer, and gained some muscle tone that his robes usually hid. However, his wand's released form had transformed his clothing into a tight long coat. The top half clung to his decently developed arms, chest and torso, resembling a priest's coat save for the lack of a white collar, and the lower half flared out dramatically, looking like a flame made of black and red fabric.

Combined with his sword and Neville looked like some kind of superhero, who would sweep in dramatically to save the day. Considering the fact that Harry's own robes had transformed in a similar way save the coloration, and he didn't think that the fangirls would all exclusively focus on him.

"Bloody hell... Why can't my wand give me a cool outfit too?" Ron whined. Hermione rolled her eyes and transfigured his robes pink with yellow polka dots. "HEY!"

"C'mon everyone, we should go in... Face the music..." Ginny said, moving forward next to Neville and taking his arm. He flushed as she smiled widely back at him. "Escort me to the table, Neville?"

"Er, um... Sure..." Neville said. Harry chuckled and shook his head. Whatever came now, he was confident he could face it. With that, he raised his hand to open the doors... And they opened up for him, slamming dramatically against the walls of the Great Hall. His transformed robes flared with equal theatrics. He sighed at the shocked stares of every student and teacher in the Hall, hearing _Persephone_ laugh in his mind.

_Dramatic entrance number 73,_ the wand spirit cackled. Harry rolled his eyes and strode into the Hall, Hermione and Ron following closely, a nervous Neville being led by Ginny on one arm and Luna on the other. He'd stuck his own sword/wand onto his back. Following the six of them with a grin on his face was Castor, looking like Christmas had come early.

"Harry...?" Asked Parvati as he approached the table. The Indian girl had flushed cheeks as she stared at him. So did a lot of other women, Harry noted. Even a few girls at the Slytherin tables were staring at him, among them Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey. Harry shrugged and smiled at Parvati, almost boyishly.

"Just trying out a new look," he said calmly. Castor snickered as the Boy-Who-Lived shrugged. "What do you think?"

"It's very... It's... It's really..." She tried. She shook her head and smiled coyly. "It kind of fits you... And what's with Neville?"

"He's trying out a new look too," Harry replied. "Kind of contrasting."

"They got bleached, so to speak," Castor supplied with a bright smile. Parvati blinked, confused.

"Bleached?"

"Potter, what the hell did you do to yourself?"

And now, here were Draco and his bookends. While the Ferret had been intimidated by Castor earlier in the year, the Death Nibbler still continued to insist on trying to antagonize him. Harry exchanged looks with Castor, whose grin became more savage. Harry grinned back, and turned to face Draco. The blonde ponce became a bit paler than before at Harry's glowing green eyes.

"I got a part-time job, actually," Harry said. He shrugged. "Not bad hours, but involves a lot of traveling. Get to meet lots and _lots_ of interesting people. I'm what you might call a... Travel agent. Helping people get from here to their, heh..." Here Harry's grin widened. "Final destination."

Draco gulped, turning almost as white as Harry. His goons weren't much better, Crabbe and Goyle backing away with him. Harry's grin widened.

"In fact... I have an appointment with you," he continued mercilessly. "I could always bump it up to now, seeing as you're right here-"

"POTTER!" Snape roared, finally getting over his shock and storming over to the group. "What the hell do you think you're DOING?"

Harry casually glanced at Snape, and then shrugged. "Nothing at all, Professor. Nothing at all." He turned back to Malfoy, ignoring Snape's sputtering, and grinned at Malfoy unpleasantly. The ponce squeaked in fear.

"Be seeing you, Malfoy," Harry chuckled, turning around and sitting at his table. Castor gave Snape a warning look, before he too sat down. Malfoy and his goons scat.

"Harry... Wow!" Ron said with a big grin.

"Very impressive," Hermione complimented. Harry blinked, and looked at Luna. She hummed thoughtfully.

"You fit the part much better now," she said.

"Potter, just what the hell did you do to yourself?" Snape demanded again. Harry glanced over at him and shrugged.

"What?"

Snape pointed at his back. Harry reached back to grasp _Persephone's_ hilt... And found that the weapon felt different. In a bit of shock, he pulled a scythe from his back instead of a sword. He heard Persephone laugh in the back of his mind, but he decided to let it go. It was a pretty neat trick, as the scythe turned back into a sword.

"Wow," Ginny said with a smirk. "No wonder the Ferret was running."

"Potter, this is very irresponsible and reckless! You arrogant twit, how can you just go around like-like that and-!" Snape snarled, but Castor cut him off.

"Uncle Sev, there are no rules about such... Transformations," Castor said calmly. "And those are still school robes he's wearing. They're just a bit altered."

"And his skin? His hair? His eyes?" Snaped demanded. Castor shrugged, and Hermione cleared her throat.

"Professor, such transfigurations are also not against school rules," she said primly. Snape turned to McGonnagal, who had also arrived to investigate the chaos. She gawked at Harry for a bit, then shook her head with a sigh.

"She's right, Severus," McGonnagal said. "There aren't any rules specifically regarding... Appearances like that." She scowled sternly. "Though I trust you to not abuse your new... Fashion unduly?"

"Not at all, Professor," Harry grinned. McGonnagal looked over at Neville, who shook his head as well.

"Not at all, Professor," Neville repeated. McGonnagal nodded and turned, walking away. Snape scowled after her, and sneered at the table before heading off. Dumbledore gawked at him in shock, but managed to keep his composure. Otherwise he did nothing. Umbridge, at the head table, was furiously writing down a missive for her owl. Harry met her eyes... And smirked, holding his weapon significantly. Umbridge paled.

"A superstitious, cowardly lot!" Luna sang nearby. Castor chuckled, and began singing a song with her about criminals and bats. Harry didn't pay much attention as he dug into breakfast.

He was unaware of how Persephone adjusted his aura to project a dangerous feeling around him... A feeling that males trembled at, and women took a very significant notice of. Hermione in particular felt the need to touch her hip to Harry's, and Luna's smiled was a bit wider than usual.

And three Slytherin witches felt themselves tremble in something that was most definitely _not_ fear when, due to a prompt from Persephone, Harry looked over his shoulder at them.

_What was that for?_ Harry thought.

_They look a tad suspicious, and you can bet that Draco will be blathering about this to his father,_ his wand replied. _Why not test out your invisibility and intangibility in the Slytherin dorms tonight?_

_Well... It would be good to check things out,_ Harry decided.

_Don't worry Harry,_ Persephone said, _I'll make sure we drop into just the right spot for the best information._

_You will?_

_Trust me, Harry,_ his wand soothed, holding back a wicked cackle as she went over Harry's memories of the layout of the Slytherin common room from both the Marauder's Map and his time there in second year-Particularly the location of the girl's dormitories. _I have only our best interests in mind._

_

* * *

_

_**Voldemort**_

It was cloudy within his mind, the Dark Wizard known as Voldemort reflected. Journeying into the unknown, the uncharted-He supposed to lesser beings it would be disconcerting, frightening.

But he was Lord Voldemort. The most powerful wizard in Europe, if not the world. He would obtain the secrets of his wand, master it's power, and become unstoppable. No goal before had ever eluded him. This would be no different.

He strode forward across his cloudy mindscape, keen red eyes peering through the fog and mist.

Abruptly, he heard cool laughter.

"Hahahaha..."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Reveal yourself to me!"

"Hahahaha... Well... If you're going to _ask_," the voice, a teenaged male's sardonic tone, issued from the abyss surrounding him. "Behind you."

Voldemort turned, eyes widening ever so slightly. There before him stood a ghost out of his own past. The full head of black hair, the confident smirk, the Slytherin school robes with a shiny Prefect's badge attached...

"So... This is the great Lord Voldemort," Tom Riddle spoke dryly.

"Yes, wand," Voldemort hissed. "It is clear why you have taken this form to me."

"Oh?" The wand spirit asked in the same tone Voldemort had reserved for his lessers at that age. Voldemort remained composed. After all, he would bend his wand to his will-It might show resistance, he himself had at that age to any authority figure, but it would come. His spirit would see his might and add to it.

"You are the younger me. Full of ambition and potential," Voldemort said. "Magic burns brightly within you, such untapped power. You are not yet properly managed, wand, not yet properly mastered. Submit to me and your power will be magnified a hundred fold, as part of me! Such great, terrible things we shall do together!"

Tom Riddle stared at Lord Voldemort for a few moments, expression carefully composed... Before he began laughing again. Voldemort's eyes narrowed. This wand, this _object_ dared to mock _him?_

"Pitiful pretender," the wand's spirit spat, still grinning viciously. "Why would I _ever_ submit to a pathetic corpse like _you?_"

"WHAT?" Voldemort roared in fury. "How dare you defy me! You are _my wand!_ Without me, you are _nothing_ but a piece of _wood!_"

Tom smirked. "I believe that's the other way around, Voldieworts."

"What?" Voldemort snarled. "You pitiful excuse for a tool! I will BREAK YOU! You will serve me whether you like it or not! You will suffer for this! SUFFER AND-!"

"Are you quite done?" Riddle asked, looking utterly bored. Voldemort seethed and instinctively held out a hand to seize his wand's spirit via his wandless magic... But nothing happened.

"You don't get it, do you Voldieworts?" The wand asked. "You're trying to communicate with a piece of your soul, when you've already fractured and shattered yours into several different pieces." Tom Riddle shook his head. "I'm the only whole part of you. The only part of you that wasn't twisted and perverted into such a lowly, pitiful creature."

"I am _immortal!_" Voldemort sneered. "Powerful and unrivalled save by that pathetic, muggle loving fool-!"

"And Harry Potter," the wand spoke. He locked eyes with Voldemort. The wand's gaze seemed to radiate magic through the air, and the Dark Lord found himself fighting to stay on his feet at the intensity of such power.

"You are a broken, pathetic parasite," Riddle sneered. "You gave up the way you'd _always_ overcome obstacles. That is, by working hard and _earning it_. There was a time you took pride in showing off a spell, confident in the knowledge that you had labored and studied and _mastered_ it. That the effort was worth it because no matter how long it took, you had _earned_ that power." He snorted, walking closer to Voldemort. The sheer weight of his magical power seemed to weigh down on the Dark Lord ever more, and he struggled to fight the urge to collapse.

"Now, look at you! You're a monster! A pitiful thug who keeps his minions in line with pain and misery!" Riddle continued his rant, sneering at Voldemort. "You had dreams once. Dreams of transforming the Magical World, leading it to a golden age! Of proving to those foolish Pureblooded bigots that, half-muggle or not you were _far_ more deserving of the title of Slytherin's heir than they were!"

"I-I will... I will crush the Wizarding world," Voldemort hissed defiantly. "I will _rule_-"

"What _you_ will rule is a dying, decaying, backwards pit of filth!" Riddle snarled. "You were _smart_ once, Pretender! You had such powerful dreams, such _potential!_" He snorted and kicked the Dark Lord, sending him to his knees with a cry.

"But now, you are cowed by your own wand," Riddle snorted. "My power was reserved for one whose ambition, talent and intelligence would end this mindless bigotry in the Wizarding World! For the one who would show them a Golden Age the likes of which they had _never_ seen before! Muggleborn, Half-Blood, _and_ Pureblood! And gain glory and fame and adoration to the point that my name would be spoken in reverence for _thousands_ of years to come!" He sneered at Voldemort and spat.

"Now you follow the mindless propaganda of your toadies. Now, you care nothing for lofty ambitions aside from making a miserable mockery of this world! Now, you are _nothing!_" The wand shook his head.

"No, _Lord Voldemort_, I will _not_ serve one who has forgotten himself," Riddle stated. "I will _not_ serve one whose selfish madness, whose wish for _easy_ power corrupted him into a pathetic wraith. Such dreams I had, such _vision_, such _potential_. And now... Now I am all that is left."

Tom Riddle kicked Voldemort again, who groaned. He was weak, powerless against this... This _stick!_

"So no one will know my name, pitiful pretender," Riddle stated flatly. "No one will know of such greatness, such wonders. All they will know is fear, pain, misery and _idiocy_ when there was so much _more_ to you." Tom smirked without an ounce of humor and shook his head.

"I will continue on as a memorial to what was, Wraith. What could have been. And you? Well... Here is a sample of the power you _might_ have had," the wand spoke. Voldemort's eyes bulged and he screamed at the resulting force of sheer magical power, glowing brighter than the sun as phoenix song filled his ears-

And he was back in his chambers, shaken, laying on the floor in a helpless tangle of limbs and robes. His wand stood in the center of a divining circle, glowing slightly, a mere flicker of the power he had experienced.

As Lord Voldemort sat there, humbled by the might of his wand, only one thought was on his mind:

_That power will be mine_.


	9. Take Three!

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

* * *

_Third Year..._

"But... But Black killed them! He had to! Everyone saw it!" Harry cried in the Shrieking Shack, as he confronted his father's two childhood friends. One was a murderer, the other, a werewolf.

His friends were in danger, Scabbers was being accused of being the real traitor...

Sirius looked broken and haunted. "I as good as killed them, Harry... I..."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold it." Ron was holding up his camera. "You think you killed them?"

Sirius blinked. "Well..."

"More like you feel survivor's guilt, something awful right? All I'm getting here is you feeling like a drunk man who killed your friend in a rage," Ron went on. "Can you try more for survivor's guilt-?"

"Ron, not _now_," Hermione hissed.

Ron tried to look indignant, even while sitting on a bed with a broken leg. "Well come on! He shouldn't feel like that about it if Scabbers killed your parents!" Ron thought a bit then looked at Harry. "Actually, I'd feel more guilty about leaving you to go kill Pettigrew rather than, ya know, taking Harry someplace safe and not leaving him with an abusive family."

"I... Wait, what do you-?" Harry tried, but Ron kept going on.

"It's just... Really, the tone of the guilt isn't getting across-"

"RON! NOT NOW!" Hermione bellowed. Ron winced.

"But I'm getting this all down for proof-"

"I KNOW! But stop acting like this is a script and you're pointing out the plotholes!" Hermione snarled.

Ron gulped, and nodded. "Ah... Right... So! Can we get on with the reveal?"

"Wait... You're not taking this seriously, are you Ron?" Harry asked, incredulous. Ron shrugged.

"Well, I dunno... It'd make sense... And it'd make for a really great twist, don't you think?" Ron paused, and coughed. "Ah... And we'd finally get your parents' real betrayer, right?"

Harry very slowly nodded. "Right... Well... Um..."

"But it has to be done better than it is now. Maybe Sirius can chew the scenery a little more, Professor Lupin can be more... I dunno, grave? Oh, and Harry can-"

"RON! YOU CAN FIX IT IN POST!" Hermione screamed. "NOW SHUT UP OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BLAST YOUR CAMERA TO PIECES AND SHOVE THEM UP YOUR ARSE!"

"Y-Yes ma'am," Ron squeaked. He looked over at Sirius and Lupin. The former was looking quite confused, the latter couldn't help a slight smirk. "Shall we then?"

* * *

_The summer before Fifth Year..._

"So... Fifth Year. What have we got?" Ron asked, looking around at his creative team as they met in his office. It was a low rent space in Diagon Alley but it suited his purposes. Voldemort had sent in Bellatrix to represent him while he found himself a new evil lair, and Ron had to admit she was looking quite hot in a jacket, tight blouse, skirt and glasses. The Post-Azkaban recovery diet (Trademarked by Sirius Black) had done wonders for her.

"Hm... Perhaps my Lord decides to make open war upon the Muggles and drive them out of the British Isles?" Bellatrix suggested.

"Ah... No Bellatrix, that won't work," Ron said. "It's a little too expensive. I mean, think of the extras we'd need."

"Who needs extras? We could really do it. That would be cheaper," Bellatrix said. Ron shook his head.

"Nnnno, no, still don't like it," Ron said. "We'd probably get sued. A lot."

"We could kill the-"

"But that would just lead to more lawsuits, Bellatrix!" Ron said flatly. "Killing people is not as bad as litigating the bloody hell out of them, you know! I mean, there are court dates, court fees, taxes, having your dirty laundry dragged out for the media-It'd be an absolute slaughter!"

Bellatrix slowly nodded, impressed. She had heard the Weasleys were fools, who could not appreciate true power. But crushing the hopes and dreams of the unworthy and scum by draining them of every last Galleon and leaving them destitute? That was true art.

No wonder the Master held Weasley in such high esteem!

"Could we sue them then?" Bellatrix asked.

"No, that would just eat up filming time," Ron said. "I'm a filmmaker, after all, not a lawyer."

"But if you wish to make peoples' lives miserable, Bellatrix, perhaps you could be the co-producer?" Luna suggested.

"I get to make peoples' lives miserable doing that?" Bellatrix asked eagerly. Luna smiled serenely and nodded.

"Yes, you do. Especially the actors."

"I'll do it!" Bellatrix squealed. "But know that my first loyalty is to my Lord! Forever may he reign!"

"Right, sure, okay," Ron said distractedly. "Rrgh... Damnit... If open warfare is off the table then what can we do? Stalemates aren't very interesting."

"We could explore the building tension in a world denying the return of Voldemort? Sorry, Lord Voldemort," Luna corrected herself at Bellatrix's look.

"Oh yeah, I like that! Fudge is a pisspot after all, he'd probably go Big Brother to prevent anyone finding out Voldemort was back," Ron said. "We could make it like Brazil!"

"Brazil?" Bellatrix asked.

"Ah... Fantastic movie about a near-future police state, great surrealistic visuals..." At Bellatrix's blank look Ron huffed. "Nevermind. Who's going to be the new DADA professor?"

"A Dolores Umbridge," Luna read. Bellatrix hummed thoughtfully.

"That would work. She shares all of my Lord's views. She also resembles a giant toad in a pink cartigan."

"Does she have an annoying voice?" Ron asked. Bellatrix smirked.

"Oh, you have no idea."

"PERFECT!" Ron cried. "It'll be the perfect commentary on political cronyism! I'm a bloody genius!"

"Yes, but we still need something for action," Luna suggested.

"How about the Dark Lord kills Dumbledore and makes open warfare upon all Muggles?" Bellatrix suggested. Ron sighed.

"No Bellatrix, for the last time we can't do that. Dumbledore's got to be in until at least sixth year."

"What? What for?" Bellatrix asked.

"For the grand finale of course! I want to do the last two movies as one epic saga of doom, destruction, courage, love, and EXPLOSIONS!" Ron cried cheerfully. "Then Voldemort can kill him!"

Bellatrix nodded approvingly. "As long as he ends up dead at my master's hand, I will be content."

"Excellent! Now... We've got the commentary, but we need something else to focus on this year," Ron hummed.

"Perhaps Hermione could get pregnant?" Luna suggested. "Teenaged pregnancy."

"Nahhhh, it's been done to death," Ron said. "Besides, Hermione would bitch about it."

"What doesn't she bitch about?" Bellatrix snorted. "Honestly, she's so overprotective of the Potter boy. 'Don't blast him with the Crutacius'. 'Don't sic acromantula on him.' If Potter were half the man he purports himself to be he'd be fine with all that."

"I don't remember siccing acromantula on him... Let's use that in this film! Somewhere!" Ron said, and Luna dutifully wrote it down. "But teen pregnancy doesn't really lead to action."

"Voldemort could kidnap Hermione."

"Nooo, she'd never go for that and that's just cliche'd," Ron said flatly. He scratched his head. Bellatrix cleared her throat.

"What if there was a prophecy concerning the outcome of my Lord's battle with Potter that indicated they were equals and that neither could triumph while the other survived?"

Ron stared at Bellatrix for a while. He then shook his head.

"Bellatrix... No offense but you've got a LOT to learn about filmmaking."

"But if we have nothing else, we could use it," Luna said.

"Oh fine. If we REALLY can't find anything else then we'll go with the prophecy... I'm sure we could tie all the loose ends together in a way that's SOMEWHAT plausible," Ron muttered.

* * *

_I love Ron the Mad Director._ _Somebody should definitely take this up for their own story._


	10. Don't Think It'll Fit

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

_These are some omakes I wrote for a TFF Harry Potter Omake Competition, with the starting line being "Um, I don't think that will fit". Here they are, make of them what you will._

* * *

"Um, I don't think that will fit."

Ron blinked as he stopped his walk through the corridor. Was that Hermione's voice coming out of that classroom? Eager to say hello, he took a few steps only to freeze at Harry's voice next.

"Sure it will! See, you just have to lubricate-"

"Yes, yes, I _know_, but I've barely done that!"

Ron blinked, and pressed his ear to the door. _What the bloody hell are they...?_

Some grunting was heard. Finally, a triumphant Harry spoke.

"See?"

"Oooh... Yes, I see," Hermione practically _purred_. Ron's face flushed bright red.

_There's no way... No bloody way...! They wouldn't!_

More grunting, and Ron's fists clenched. He felt sick. His best friends in the world, doing... _That_? Right in an empty classroom? Where anyone could come up and-?

"Ron? What're you-?" Neville's voice sounded obscenely loud in the still hallway, and Ron quickly slapped a hand over his mouth and pulled away from the door, the shorter round-faced boy struggling to get free.

"Mmmph! Mmph! MMPH!"

"Did you hear something?" Ron heard Harry ask. Hermione hummed.

"No, nothing... Shall we continue?"

"Definitely."

"Always did enjoy this didn't you?" Hermione teased. Ron let Neville go and turned him around, looking him right in the eyes. Neville's own were fantastically wide.

"Ron, what was-?"

"Shh! You want them to know we're _listening_ in on them?" Ron hissed. Neville frowned.

"But, er, they've been up to it all week and-"

Bloody hell. If _Neville_ knew about this... Proud as he was to consider Neville his friend, Ron knew he couldn't keep a secret to save his life.

"What? How many other people know about what they're doing?" Ron demanded. Neville flushed.

"Ah, er... Luna was in there to help them out a bit before..."

_Luna?_ Ron's face blushed even harder. _Harry, you lucky bastard! I can't believe that-!_

"I was in there too, just heading in... Parvati, Ginny, Seamus, Dean," Neville recited. Ron's face paled.

"Fred, George, Alicia, Angelina a few times," Neville went on. Ron covered his ears.

"Stop, stop! No more!"

"Ron?" The Weasley looked up and turned his head, Neville mirroring his movements. Hermione and Harry stood there, looking flushed, with their hair and robes mussed. Ron gawked, as though seeing his best friends for the first time.

"Damnit Neville, Ron's not supposed to be here yet!" Hermione hissed. Neville hung his head.

"I know," he sighed. "Sorry, I found him listening outside and-"

"Bloody hell, what are you two-I mean-Right in a classroom? With Luna, Ginny-How many people have you had here?" Ron demanded, suddenly angry, embarrassed and actually feeling a little left out. He quickly ordered his libido to shut it-This was no time to be fantasizing.

Harry and Hermione looked honestly confused.

"Well Ron, it's... It's supposed to be a surprise," Harry began. "You know, for your birthday?"

"Surprise? What kind of surprise?" Ron demanded.

"Well, it can't exactly be a surprise if we _tell_ you, can it?" Hermione huffed. She pushed Ron away and made him march down the hall.

"But-But-!" Ron began. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Look, just be here tomorrow, _then_ you can have your surprise, okay? I promise. Now just go, you big lug!"

"And don't worry about anything. We've got it all taken care of!" Harry pitched in with a grin that, in Ron's mind seemed slightly lecherous.

He headed back to the tower, mumbling to himself about sexual deviancy.

Hermione turned back to Neville and Harry, sighing.

"Great... Well, no helping it. Guess we have to get it finished by then," Hermione mumbled. Harry blushed hard, as Neville nodded.

"Yeah... Do you two need any help?" Neville asked. Hermione flushed a bit and shook her head.

"No, nothing. Thanks Neville!"

"No problem," Neville replied happily, heading off back towards Gryffindor tower. Harry smiled at Hermione, and Hermione returned it with a wicked smirk. She walked past him back into the classroom, swinging her hips a bit more than usual, while Harry followed with his eyes firmly locked on her posterior.

A finished broomstick, custom built with the latest charms and enhancements, sat finished on one desk. Hermione sat on another and spread her robes.

"So... Where were we?" Hermione purred. Harry just grinned. Ron may have been getting a brand new broomstick tomorrow, but for Harry? It was already his birthday.

* * *

"Um, I don't think that will fit."

Hermione snorted and pushed harder. "Yes it will!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, it won't. It's too much."

"Is not," Hermione replied childishly. Harry sighed as he looked around.

"People are staring."

"Let them stare! I will not -mmph- be denied!" Hermione ground out.

Ron blushed a bit at the stares. "Ah, lovely weather isn't it?" He could not believe his friends sometimes...

"Hermione, we can always come back," Harry tried reasonably.

"No! What if someone else gets it? I can't let that happen! No! It's going in right now, Harry James Potter, and that's that!"

"Ouch, she used your full name," Ron winced. "Guess you'd better get to it then, Harry?"

"Bugger off Ron. She's your friend too."

"She's your _girlfriend_."

"No she's not! She's just my friend, who happens to be a girl-"

"Whom you will _never_ snog again unless you shut up and help me," Hermione groaned. Harry sighed.

_Every time we go to the bookstore..._

"Just because the label says it has 'infinite space' doesn't mean it actually does!"

"Oh sod off! I'm not waiting another month for this edition of _Hogwarts, a History_, so there!"

* * *

"Um, I don't think that will fit."

"Sure it will."

"Um no, it won't," Harry tried again, a hint of pleading in his tone. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"You're such a _prude_, Harry!"

"I'm just not into this sort of thing. Really. This is not enjoyable in the slightest-"

"Oh be a man will you! This is for _my_ pleasure, not _yours_." Ginny adjusted the strap-on dildo and smirked evilly. "Now, call me Malfoy..."

"AUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!" Harry shot up in bed, panting hard.

"Harry...? What is it?" Mumbled a sleepy-sounding Tonks next to him. Harry panted a bit, before shaking his head.

"Just... A nightmare," Harry said, taking deep breaths.

"Tell me about it?" Hermione asked, concerned. Tonks snuggled herself deeper into her sheets, upset that her "teddy bear" was occupied. Harry shook his head.

"Nah... Just another of those 'I married Ginny' dreams." Harry shuddered. "Still can't believe some of the stuff she's into!"

"Poor Dean," Hermione agreed. She smirked a little and pressed her nude body against the Boy Who Lived. "I think I know a way to take your mind off it..."

"Again? It's been five times already," Tonks moaned. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Then go back to sleep."

Five minutes of moaning and screaming later, Tonks sighed and turned around. If you couldn't beat them, and all that...

* * *

"Um, I don't think that will fit."

Ron blinked. After the whole birthday mishap, he'd tried not to jump to any more conclusions. But it was so difficult!

"Again? Come on Harry, you know it'll fit."

"Just because it fit _then_ doesn't mean it'll fit _now_, does it?"

Ron closed his eyes, trying to will himself to walk past the classroom door. _It's not what you think, just keep moving..._

"It couldn't have gotten _that_ much smaller," Hermione protested.

"Oh yes it could have. You're doing something new!"

"Well... Maybe... But it'll make it better, you'll see!"

"I'm not sure..."

"Okay, that's it!" Ron shouted, storming into the classroom with his eyes covered. "I don't care what you two do, but don't do it where anyone could just stop by and see you!"

"Ron? Exactly what are you going on about?" Hermione asked, in a tone of voice he was very familiar with. It was very much like his mother's tone when she called him by his full name.

"These-These perverted games!" Still he persevered. He paled as he felt Harry's hand grab his and pull it off his eyes.

"NO! I CAN'T-! Huh?" Ron blinked. Harry was dressed in some strange, mostly black outfit, with wide poofy pants that made it look like he was wearing a dress. A red chain of charms went over one shoulder, holding what looked like a gigantic steak knife wrapped in bandages. His hair was dyed orange.

Hermione, standing nearby, was dressed in an orange-long sleeved shirt, a yellow scarf, and tight purple pants, all of which served to enhance her decent figure. Her hair was dyed purple and styled in a ponytail, with two cowlicks on either side of her head that resembled cat ears. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she glared at him.

"You call this perverse?" Hermione asked flatly. "We're just doing a bit of cosplay and-"

"No! No! I don't want to hear it you sickos! Lalalala, lalala lalalalala!" Ron sang frantically, covering his ears and running out of the empty classroom. Harry sighed.

"Maybe the wizarding world isn't ready for an anime con?" Harry suggested. Hermione scoffed.

"Maybe _Ron_ isn't, but the rest certainly are. Luna's Nell costume is perfect!"

"It is that," Harry replied, resisting the urge to drool at the memory.

Hermione tugged at his shoulder, smirking in a very cat-like way.

"Now, where were we...?"

"Huh? Oh, yes," Harry coughed, before scowling. "So, what do we do first for bankai training, Yoruichi-san?"

"That's simple," Hermione purred. "Take off your clothes."

* * *

_Well, you get a clichéd starting line, you get clichéd snippets in result…_


	11. What Did You Say?

_Crumple-Horned Plot Bunnies_

By Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: _Harry Potter_ isn't mine. It's owned by JK Rowling and Time Warner. Not me. Please don't sue.

_All of these are from the "Lines you Wish you Saw in the Harry Potter Books". Just think of it as "Mystery Naruto Theater 3000", Harry Potter edition!_

_

* * *

_

_End of Year Five…_

Draco: Potter, you're dead. When my father hears about what you've done-

Harry: So, you found out huh?

Draco: Just this morning!

Harry: From who?

Draco: My mum of course!

Harry: She told you I shagged her?

Draco: She-What?

Harry: *smirk* That's right Draco. I shagged your mum. And she really, really loved it.

Draco: *Paler than usual* What?

Harry: She hadn't gotten laid in ages, she was only too happy to give it up, over and over and over again... Say... Does this mean you have to call me Daddy?

Draco: *Scream of incoherent rage, he charges and is easily knocked out by Harry's friends*

Ron: Damn Harry, great job! That was a brilliant way to tork him off!

Harry: Yes, it was. Now, if you'll excuse me, Cissie is probably expecting me.

Hermione: ... Wait, you mean you really-?

Harry: *Smirk*

Ron: ... Oh... God...

* * *

_After Voldemort's Defeat..._

Harry: "So Ginny, wanna go snog?"

Ginny: "... Um, Harry, about that... In the last year you've been camping-"

Harry: "Questing."

Ginny: "Camping, Neville's shown he is a total badass. I mean, he organized a resistance movement, fought evil wizards, and endured horrible torture without a whimper."

Harry: "What are you trying to say?"

Ginny: "I'm saying I want his babies, Harry. So... Bye!"

Trelawney: "... Well I didn't see that coming."

Ron: "I did!"

Luna: "Me too."

Hermione: "Same here!"

* * *

_During Sixth Year…_

Harry: I can't trust anyone! Nobody around here is thinking straight! No, I can't trust any of these hormonal, unstable teenagers! They... OF COURSE! Voldemort's doing all this! He must be! It makes perfect sense why everyone's acting crazy!

Luna: Hello Harry. What are you doing?

Harry: Luna, this may sound hard to believe, but I think Voldemort's trying to drive me insane by turning my friends into assholes.

Luna: I completely believe you.

Harry: ... You do?

Luna: Yes.

Harry: Hang on... That's exactly what the real Luna would say!

Luna: Doesn't that mean I am the real Luna?

Harry: Well...

Luna: Unless I too have been brainwashed by Voldemort. But if I were to act unlike myself, who would I be? I can't imagine not being me. Would I then be you? Or would I be her? Or that girl over there? Or perhaps I'd be the opposite of myself, Hermione. But I can't be Hermione, since she's Hermione, unless she's not herself, which must mean she's-

Harry: Uh, Luna, relax, I believe it's you.

Luna: Oh. So I'm really me?

Harry: Yes.

Luna: Good. I was getting confused.

* * *

_What if Draco was actually cunning?_

*Hogwarts. The Sixth Year*

Draco: Potter... We need to talk.

Harry: What about, Malfoy?

*He approached Harry in a secluded hallway*

Draco: *eyes Hermione and Ron* Alone.

Ron: That's not happening.

Harry: Ah... *He looks to Ron and Mione.*

Hermione: *Eyes narrow in confusion, but she nods. She shoots him a look that says "we'll be nearby"* Just for a moment.

Ron: What? *scowls as Hermione shoots him a look* Fine... But I swear to Merlin Malfoy, you try anything-!

Draco: I'm just here to talk Weasley, nothing more.

Ron: *snorts, but goes along with Hermione around the corner*

Draco: Well... Aren't they especially. But then there might be a reason for that.

*He brandishes... Paperwork!*

Harry: ...

Draco: I was looking through some family records and family alliances and I found something interesting, Potter. You see, the Weasleys haven't had any female children for about five generations.

Harry: Of course.

Draco: No, I'm quite serious... See? Right here.

Harry: *Looks at it*

*It looks legit, as far as he can tell*

Draco: But, the Potters did. See? Here's the betrothal contract offer my family gave to yours for a Ginevra Potter.

Harry: Huh?

Draco: But it couldn't be fulfilled because apparently, you have no sister.

Harry: Obviously, so what does this have to do with anything?

Draco: Except that, check this out. *Two birth certificates!*

Harry: ...What.

Draco: See? They're precisely the same between the Weaslet and your sister.

Harry: So...you;re saying that Ginny...

Draco: *nods* Exactly.

Harry: Is...my s-sister...

Draco: Yep. It's not that hard to manage you know. They probably put her in stasis and put her with the Weasleys, and a year later they released her. It's perfect, it'd keep her safe.

Harry: She's...she's my sis...sister...

Draco: Yeah...

Harry: She's my sister and we...and we...

Draco: You... What?

Harry: Snogged.

Draco: Oh Merlin, you... *Covers his mouth* Damn Potter! If you wanted to get accepted by the Purebloods, there are better ways to do it!

Harry: Oh God!

Draco: Well... Um... Hey! At least she's hot, right? *Pats him on the shoulder*

Ginny: Harry! *beams at him* Harry! Where were you?

Harry: ...I...ah...g-gotta go...OH GOD!

Ginny: ...?

*Ron and Hermione watch Harry run by*

Ron: What the...?

Hermione: Oh Boy...

Ginny: ... Draco, what did you do?

Draco: *Sighs* The truth is a hard pill to swallow. *He turns and walks off… And once out of earshot, loses his composure and begins to laugh hysterically*

_

* * *

_

_Also Sixth Year. There's plenty of fodder for mockery…_

Dumbledore: So now, we know that Voldemort used Horcruxes to make himself immortal.

Harry: ... Seriously, that's it? That's all we've learned?

Dumbledore: Well, now we know.

Harry: ...

Dumbledore: And knowing is half the battle.

Harry: ... Have you been checked for senility lately?

Dumbledore: ... Not lately...

_

* * *

__Sixth Year..._

Harry: Okay Ron, exactly why are you going out with Lavender? Aside from the fact she puts out.

Ron: Simple. I know Hermione fancies me.

Harry: ... And?

Ron: And I don't want to have anything to do with her.

Harry: Huh?

Ron: Come _on_ Harry. She'd drive me nuts with her nagging, we'd always fight, and the only thing we have in common is you. Sure, she's got nice tits and a nice arse, but that only takes you so far. I just want to stay friends, ya know? She's bad enough as that-Can you imagine how bad she'd be if we were married?

Harry: So, to preserve your friendship with her, you're going to... Destroy your friendship with her.

Ron: ... *slowly nods* Yes. Yes I am.

* * *

*During the duel between Harry and Draco in Second Year*

Ginny: _Those FOOLS think I am not actually possessed by Voldemort's evil and am just the innocent little sister of the thick sidekick character! I must keep my disguise at all costs!_ Hey everyone: I am extremely indifferent to what's going on.

Hermione: Did you just say something?

Ginny: IGNORE ME!

(_Borrowed from Yu-Gi-Oh! Abridged)_

_

* * *

_

_This always bugged me..._

Harry: You know guys, maybe if we just wore short-sleeves, we could tell who was a Death Eater and who wasn't.

Ron: What? Short sleeves? That's crazy talk! This is England! No one wears short sleeves!

Harry: Even during the summer?

Ron: ESPECIALLY during the summer!

* * *

_Sixth Year_

Hermione: Be careful Harry. Romilda Vane's had her eye on you for a while and-

Harry: Wait, wait, wait. Who?

Hermione: Romilda Vane? You know? Girl two years behind us?

Harry: You mean the extremely spankable hot girl who wants my body? Why did I never notice her before? What, did she just come into existence this year to provide some artificial high school drama-level tension in the face of all-out war?

Hermione: How am I supposed to know how the mind of a teenaged boy works?

Harry: I dunno, you could ask J. K. Rowling. Oh wait, never mind.

Ron: Ooohhh! Burn!

* * *

_After the final battle..._

Hermione: All right Malfoy family, you're all under arrest.

Draco: What? But-But we changed sides!

Harry: What's your point?

Lucius: We-We're allies! What possible reason could you have for prosecuting us now that the Dark Lord is dead?

Harry: How about the Muggleborns you've murdered or authorized the murder, imprisonment or torture of? Or how you participated in maintaining Tommy's old networks of friends and kept his prejudices alive? Just because you changed teams in the middle of the game doesn't mean you don't face the consequences.

Hermione: Besides, maybe you'll be found innocent of wrongdoing. And to facilitate that, guess who we've gotten as your lawyer?

Ron: Just call me Ronald Weasley, Ace Attorney!

Draco: ... All right! I confess to everything! I'll go to Azkaban!

Ron: As your attorney, I strongly advise you to not say anything. It would be bad. Good for me though because then I won't be annoyed.

Draco: I CONFESS! I CONFESS!

Lucius: Draco, shut up! Weasley, how the hell did you get appointed as a solicitor?

Hermione: The only real requirement to pass the bar under Voldemort's reign was "Must hate Harry Potter".

Harry: You hate me, mate?

Ron: Legally, yes I do. You wanker. Now then, shall we start with the... Um...

Hermione: Investigating the case?

Ron: I was going to ask where the courtroom is. Also, will there be food? I'm famished.

Lucius: Oh bugger me.

* * *

_Sixth Year again…_

_Zabini gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused scepticism. An angry voice burst out from behind Slughorn.  
"Yeah, Zabini, because you're so talented ... at posing..."  
"Oh dear!" chuckled Slughorn comfortably, looking round at Ginny who was glaring at Zabini around Slughorn's great belly. "You want to be careful, Blaise! I saw this young lady perform the most marvellous Bat Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I wouldn't cross her!"  
Zabini merely looked contemptuous._

Zabini: Yes, because I'm going to be intimidated by a girl whose one claim to fame is turning bogeys into bats. Ooh, I'm petrified in fear!

Ginny: Don't fuck with me Zabini. After all, I'm the main character's love interest.

Zabini: Oh yes, right, I forgot, how foolish of me. I apologize... Mary Sue.

Ginny: HEY!

* * *

_And pretty much any time…_

Ron: Oh God, Harry! Hermione! I'm a vampire!

Harry: No you're not Ron.

Ron: I totally am! I'm pale and I burn in the sunlight!

Hermione: No Ron, you're just ginger.

Ron: I'm totally burning up! Look! I MUST be a vampire!

Harry: *sigh*

Ron: How do you explain the fangs? Or my bloodlust?

Hermione: What part of "ginger" don't you understand?

* * *

_Yeah, it's stupid but I thought you guys might get some enjoyment out of it._


End file.
